SEVASTOPOL 


.--^^T.  V^CS^*^.JlJ^>^ 


COUNT   TOLSTOI'S    WORKS. 

ANNA   KARENINA $1-75 

CHILDHOOD,  BOYHOOD,  AND   YOUTH.     .       1.50 

IVAN    ILYITCH 1-25 

MY   RELIGION 1-00 

MY   CONFESSION 1-00 

WHAT   TO    DO? 1-25 

THE   INVADERS 1.25 

A   RUSSIAN    PROPRIETOR 1.50 

NAPOLEON'S    RUSSIAN    CAMPAIGN    .     .     .       1.00 

THE   LONG    EXILE      . 1.25 

LIFE 1.25 

SEVASTOPOL 1-00 

THE   COSSACKS 1.00 

POWER   AND    LIBERTY 75 

WHAT    MEN    LIVE    BY  (booklet) 30 

THE   TWO    PILGRIMS  (booklet) 30 

WHERE    LOVE    IS  (booklet) 30 

THOMAS  Y.   CROWELL   &  CO.. 

PUBLISHERS, 
13  ASTOR    PLACE,  NEW  YORK. 


SEVASTOPOL 


BY 

COUNT   LYOF  N.   TOLSTOI 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  RUSSIAN 

ISABEL   F.   HAPGOOD 


AUTHORIZED   EDITION. 


NEW  YORK 
THOMAS    Y.    CROV/ELL   &    CO. 

13  AsTOR  Plage 


RESERVATION 
'OPY  ADDED 

•R'QINALTOBE 
STAINED 


''Afi  2  9  \m 


Copyright,  1888,  by 
Thomas  Y.  Crowell  &  Co. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Sevastopol  in  December,  1854 5 

Sevastopol  in  May,  1855 37 

Sevastopol  in  August,  1855 123' 


f^5e97216 


SEVASTOPOL. 


SEVASTOPOL   IN   DECEMBER,    1854. 

The  flush  of  morning  has  but  just  begun  to  tinge 
the  sky  above  Sapun  Mountain ;  the  dark  blue 
surface  of  the  sea  has  already  cast  aside  the  shades 
of  night  and  awaits  the  first  ray  to  begin  a  play 
of  merry  gleams ;  cold  and  mist  are  wafted  from 
the  bay  ;  there  is  no  snow  —  all  is  black,  but  the 
morning  frost  pinches  the  face  and  crackles 
underfoot,  and  the  far-off,  unceasing  roar  of  the 
sea,  broken  now  and  then  by  the  thunder  of 
the  firing  in  Sevastopol,  alone  disturbs  the  calm 
of  the  morning.  It  is  dark  on  board  the  ships ; 
it  has  just  struck  eight  bells. 

Toward  the  north  the  activity  of  the  day  begins 
gradually  to  replace  the  nocturnal  quiet ;  here  the 
relief  guard  has  passed  clanking  their  arms,  there 
the  doctor  is  already  hastening  to  the  hospital, 
further  on  the  soldier  has  crept  out  of  his  earth 

5 


6  SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 

hut  and  is  washing  his  sunburnt  face  in  ice-en- 
crusted water,  and,  turning  towards  the  crimson- 
ing east,  crosses  himself  quickly  as  he  prays  to 
God ;  here  a  tall  and  heavy  camel-wagon  has 
dragged  creaking  to  the  cemetery,  to  bury  the 
bloody  dead,  with  whom  it  is  laden  nearly  to  the 
top.  You  go  to  the  wharf  —  a  peculiar  odor  of 
coal,  manure,  dampness,  and  of  beef  strikes  you ; 
thousands  of  objects  of  all  sorts — wood,  meat,  gabi- 
ons, flour,  iron,  and  so  forth  —  lie  in  heaps  about 
the  wharf;  soldiers  of  various  regiments,  with 
knapsacks  and  muskets,  without  knapsacks  and 
without  muskets,  throng  thither,  smoke,  quarrel, 
drag  weights  aboard  the  steamer  which  lies 
smoking  beside  the  quay  ;  unattached  two-oared 
boats,  filled  with  all  sorts  of  people,  —  soldiers, 
sailors,  merchants,  women,  — land  at  and  leave  the 
wharf. 

"  To  the  Grafsky,  Your  Excellency }  be  so 
good.**  Two  or  three  retired  sailors  rise  in  their 
boats  and  offer  you  their  services. 

You  select  the  one  who  is  nearest  to  you,  you 
step  over  the  half-decomposed  carcass  of  a  brown 
horse,  which  lies  there  in  the  mud  beside  the  boat, 
and  reach  the  stern.     You  quit  the  shore.     All 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  DECEMBER.  7 

about  you  is  the  sea,  already  glittering  in  the 
morning  sun,  in  front  of  you  is  an  aged  sailor,  in  a 
camel's-hair  coat,  and  a  young,  white-headed  boy, 
who  work  zealously  and  in  silence  at  the  oars. 
You  gaze  at  the  motley  vastness  of  the  vessels, 
scattered  far  and  near  over  the  bay,  and  at  the 
small  black  dots  of  boats  moving  about  on  the 
shining  azure  expanse,  and  at  the  bright  and  beau- 
tiful buildings  of  the  city,  tinted  with  the  rosy 
rays  of  the  morning  sun,  which  are  visible  in  one 
direction,  and  at  the  foaming  white  line  of  the 
quay,  and  the  sunken  ships  from  which  black  tips 
of  masts  rise  sadly  here  and  there,  and  at  the 
distant  fleet  of  the  enemy  faintly  visible  as  they 
rock  on  the  crystal  horizon  of  the  sea,  and  at  the 
streaks  of  foam  on  which  leap  salt  bubbles  beaten 
up  by  the  oars ;  you  listen  to  the  monotonous 
sound  of  voices  which  fly  to  you  over  the  water, 
and  the  grand  sounds  of  firing,  which,  as  it  seems 
to  you,  is  increasing  in  Sevastopol. 

It  cannot  be  that,  at  the  thought  that  you  too 
are  in  Sevastopol,  a  certain  feeling  of  manliness, 
of  pride,  has  not  penetrated  your  soul,  and  that  the 
blood  has  not  begun  to  flow  more  swiftly  through 
your  veins.  ' 


8  SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER, 

**  Your  Excellency  !  you  are  steering  straight 
into  the  Kistentin,"  *  says  your  old  sailor  to  you  as 
he  turns  round  to  make  sure  of  the  direction  which 
you  are  imparting  to  the  boat,  with  the  rudder  to 
the  right. 

*'  And  all  the  cannon  are  still  on  it,"  remarks 
the  white-headed  boy,  casting  a  glance  over  the 
ship  as  we  pass. 

**  Of  course  ;  it's  new.  Korniloff  lived  on  board 
of  it,"  said  the  old  man,  also  glancing  at  the  ship. 

**  See  where  it  has  burst ! "  says  the  boy,  after  a 
long  silence,  looking  at  a  white  cloud  of  spread- 
ing smoke  which  has  suddenly  appeared  high 
over  the  South  Bay,  accompanied  by  the  sharp 
report  of  an  exploding  bomb. 

^'  He  is  firing  to-day  with  his  new  battery,"  adds 
the  old  man,  calmly  spitting  on  his  hands.  "Now, 
give  way,  Mishka !  we'll  overtake  the  barge." 
And  your  boat  moves  forward  more  swiftly  over 
the  broad  swells  of  the  bay,  and  you  actually  do 
overtake  the  heavy  barge,  upon  which  some  bags 
are  piled,  and  which  is  rowed  by  awkward  soldiers, 
and  it  touches  the  Grafsky  wharf  amid  a  multi- 
tude of  boats  of  every  sort  which  are  landing. 

Throngs    of    gray   soldiers,    black   sailors,    and 

*  The  vessel  Constantine. 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER,  g 

women  -of  various  colors  move  noisily  along  the 
shore.  The  women  are  selling  rolls,  Russian 
peasants  with  samovars  are  crying  /wl  sbiten ;  * 
and  here  upon  the  first  steps  are  strewn  rusted 
cannon-balls,  bombs,  grape-shot,  and  cast-iron 
cannon  of  various  calibers  ;  a  little  further  on  is  a 
large  square,  upon  which  lie  huge  beams,  gun- 
carriages,  sleeping  soldiers  ;  there  stand  horses, 
wagons,  green  guns,  ammunition-chests,  and 
stacks  of  arms  ;  soldiers,  sailors,  officers,  women, 
children,  and  merchants  are  moving  about  ;  carts 
are  arriving  with  hay,  bags,  and  casks ;  here  and 
there  Cossacks  make  their  way  through,  or  officers 
on  horseback,  or  a  general  in  a  drosky.  To  the 
right,  the  street  is  hemmed  in  by  a  barricade,  in 
whose  embrasures  stand  some  small  cannon,  and 
beside  these  sits  a  sailor  smoking  his  pipe.  On 
the  left  a  handsome  house  with  Roman  ciphers  on 
the  pediment,  beneath  which  stand  soldiers  and 
blood-stained  litters  —  everywhere  you  behold  the 
unpleasant  signs  of  a  war  encampment.  Your 
first  impression  is  inevitably  of  the  most  disagree- 
able sort.     The  strange  mixture  of  camp  and  town 

*  A  drink  made  of   water,  molasses,  laurel-leaves    or   salvia, 
which  is  drunk  like  tea,  especially  by  the  lower  classes. 


lO  SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 

life,  of  a  beautiful  city  and  a  dirty  bivouac,  is  not 
only  not  beautiful,  but  seems  repulsive  disorder ; 
it  even  seems  to  you  that  every  one  is  thoroughly 
frightened,  and  is  fussing  about  without  knowing 
what  he  is  doing.  But  look  more  closely  at  the 
faces  of  these  people  who  are  moving  about  you, 
and  you  will  gain  an  entirely  different  idea.  Look 
at  this  little  soldier  from  the  provinces,  for  ex- 
ample, who  is  leading  a  troika  of  brown  horses  to 
water,  and  is  purring  something  to  himself  so  com- 
posedly that  he  evidently  will  not  go  astray  in 
this  motley  crowd,  which  does  not  exist  for  him  ; 
but  he  is  fulfilling  his  duty,  whatever  that  may  be, 
—  watering  the  horses  or  carrying  arms, — with 
just  as  much  composure,  self-confidence,  and 
equanimity  as  though  it  were  taking  place  in  Tula 
or  Saransk.  You  will  read  the  same  expression 
on  the  face  of  this  officer  who  passes  by  in  im- 
maculate white  gloves,  and  in  the  face  of  the 
sailor  who  is  smoking  as  he  sits  on  the  barricade, 
and  in  the  faces  of  the  working  soldiers,  waiting 
with  their  litters  on  the  steps  of  the  former  club, 
and  in  the  face  of  yonder  girl,  who,  fearing  to  wet 
her  pink  gown,  skips  across  the  street  on  the 
little  stones. 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER.  \\ 

Yes  !  disenchantment  certainly  awaits  you,  if 
you  are  entering  Sevastopol  for  the  first  time. 
In  vain  will  you  seek,  on  even  a  single  counte- 
nance, for  traces  of  anxiety,  discomposure,  or 
even  of  enthusiasm,  readiness  for  death,  decision, 
—  there  is  nothing  of  the  sort.  You  will  see  the 
tradespeople  quietly  engaged  in  the  duties  of  their 
callings,  so  that,  possibly,  you  may  reproach  your- 
self for  superfluous  raptures,  you  may  entertain 
some  doubt  as  to  the  justice  of  the  ideas  regard- 
ing the  heroism  of  the  defenders  of  Sevastopol 
which  you  have  formed  from  stories,  descriptions, 
and  the  sights  and  sounds  on  the  northern  side. 
But,  before  you  doubt,  go  upon  the  bastions, 
observe  the  defenders  of  Sevastopol  on  the  very 
scene  of  the  defence,  or,  better  still,  go  straight 
across  into  that  house,  which  was  formerly  the 
Sevastopol  Assembly  House,  and  upon  whose  roof 
stand  soldiers  with  litters,  —  there  you  will  behold 
the  defenders  of  Sevastopol,  there  you  will  behold 
frightful  and  sad,  great  and  laughable,  but  won- 
derful sights,  which  elevate  the  soul. 

You  enter  the  great  Hall  of  Assembly.  You 
have  but  just  opened  the  door  when  the  sight 
and  smell  of  forty  or  fifty  seriously  wounded  men 


12  SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 

and  of  those  who  have  undergone  amputation  — 
some  in  hammocks,  the  majority  upon  the  floor 
—  suddenly  strike  you.  Trust  not  to  the  feel- 
ing  which  detains  you  upon  the  threshold  of 
the  hall ;  be  not  ashamed  of  having  come  to 
look  at  the  sufferers,  be  not  ashamed  to  ap- 
proach and  address  them  :  the  unfortunates  like 
to  see  a  sympathizing  human  face,  they  like  to 
tell  of  their  sufferings  and  to  hear  words  of 
love  and  interest.  You  walk  along  between  the 
beds  and  seek  a  face  less  stern  and  suffering, 
which  you  decide  to  approach,  with  the  object  of 
conversing. 

"  Where  are  you  wounded  }  "  you  inquire,  tim- 
idly and  with  indecision,  of  an  old,  gaunt  soldier, 
who,  seated  in  his  hammock,  is  watching  you  with 
a  good-natured  glance,  and  seems  to  invite  you 
to  approach  him.  I  say  "  you  ask  timidly," 
because  these  sufferings  inspire  you,  over  and 
above  the  feeling  of  profound  sympathy,  with  a 
fear  of  offending  and  with  a  lofty  reverence  for 
the  man  who  has  undergone  them. 

"  In  the  leg,"  replies  the  soldier ;  but,  at  the 
same  time,  you  perceive,  by  the  folds  of  the  cov- 
erlet, that  he  has  lost  his  leg  above  the  knee. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  DECEMBER.  13 

"  God  be  thanked  now,"  he  adds,  —  "I  shall  get 
my  discharge." 

**  Were  you  wounded  long  ago  ?  " 

"  It  was  six  weeks  ago.  Your  Excellency." 

"  Does  it  still  pain  you  ?  " 

"  No,  there's  no  pain  now  ;  only  there's  a  sort  of 
gnawing  in  my  calf  when  the  weather  is  bad,  but 
that's  nothing." 

"  How  did  you  come  to  be  wounded  ?  " 

"  On  the  fifth  bastion,  during  the  first  bombard- 
merrt.  I  had  just  trained  a  cannon,  and  was  on 
the  point  of  going  away,  so,  to  another  em- 
brasure when  it  struck  me  in  the  leg,  just  as  if 
I  had  stepped  into  a  hole  and  had  no  leg." 

"  Was  it  not  painful  at  the  first  moment  t " 

"  Not  at  all  ;  only  as  though  something  boiling 
hot  had  struck  my  leg." 

**  Well,  and  then  .?  " 

"  And  then  —  nothing  ;  only  the  skin  began  to 
draw  as  though  it  had  been  rubbed  hard.  The 
first  thing  of  all.  Your  Excellency,  is  not  to  tJiink 
at  all.  If  you  don't  think  about  a  thing,  it 
amounts  to  nothing.  Men  suffer  from  thinking 
more  than  from  anything  else." 

At  that  moment,  a  woman   in  a  gray  striped 


14  SEVASTOPOL  IN  DECEMBER. 

dress  and  a  black  kerchief  bound  about  her  head 
approaches  you. 

She  joins  in  your  conversation  with  the  sailor, 
and  begins  to  tell  about  him,  about  his  sufferings, 
his  desperate  condition  for  the  space  of  four 
weeks,  and  how,  when  he  was  wounded,  he  made 
the  litter  halt  that  he  might  see  the  volley  from 
our  battery,  how  the  grand-duke  spoke  to  him 
and  gave  him  twenty-five  rubles,  and  how  he  said 
to  him  that  he  wanted  to  go  back  to  the  bastion 
to  direct  the  younger  men,  even  if  he  could  not 
work  himself.  As  she  says  all  this  in  a  breath, 
the  woman  glances  now  at  you,  now  at  the  sailor, 
who  has  turned  away  as  though  he  did  not  hear 
her  and  plucks  some  lint  from  his  pillow,  and  her 
eyes  sparkle  with  peculiar  enthusiasm. 

"  This  is  my  housewife.  Your  Excellency  !  "  the 
sailor  says  to  you,  with  an  expression  which 
seems  to  say,  **  You  must  excuse  her.  Every  one 
knows  it's  a  woman's  way  —  she's  talking  non- 
sense." 

You  begin  to  understand  the  defenders  of 
Sevastopol.  For  some  reason,  you  feel  ashamed 
of  yourself  in  the  presence  of  this  man.  You 
would   like  to   say  a  very  great  deal  to  him,  in 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER.  15 

order  to  express  to  him  your  sympathy  and 
admiration  ;  but  you  find  no  words,  or  you  are 
dissatisfied  with  those  which  come  into  your 
head,  —  and  you  do  reverence  in  silence  before 
this  taciturn,  unconscious  grandeur  and  firmness 
of  soul,  this  modesty  in  the  face  of  his  own  merits. 

"  Well,  God  grant  you  a  speedy  recovery,"  you 
say  to  him,  and  you  halt  before  another  invalid, 
who  is  lying  on  the  floor  and  appears  to  be 
awaiting  death  in  intolerable  agony. 

He  is  a  blond  man  with  pale,  swollen  face. 
He  is  lying  on  his  back,  with  his  left  arm  thrown 
out,  in  a  position  which  is  expressive  of  cruel 
suffering.  His  parched,  open  mouth  with  diffi- 
culty emits  his  stertorous  breathing  ;  his  blue, 
leaden  eyes  are  rolled  up,  and  from  beneath  the 
wadded  coverlet  the  remains  of  his  right  arm, 
enveloped  in  bandages,  protrude.  The  oppres- 
sive odor  of  a  corpse  strikes  you  forcibly,  and  the 
consuming,  internal  fire  which  has  penetrated 
every  limb  of  the  sufferer  seems  to  penetrate 
you   also. 

*'  Is  he  unconscious } "  you  inquire  of  the 
woman,  who  comes  up  to  you  and  gazes  at  you 
tenderly  as  at  a  relative. 


1 6  SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 

"  No,  he  can  still  hear,  but  he's  very  bad,"  she 
adds,  in  a  whisper.  *'  I  gave  him  some  tea  to-day, 
—  what  if  he  is  a  stranger,  one  must  still  have 
pity  !  —  and  he  hardly  tasted  it." 

"  How  do  you  feel  ?  "   you  ask  him. 

The  wounded  man  turns  his  eyeballs  at  the 
sound  of  your  voice,  but  he  neither  sees  nor 
understands  you. 

"  There's  a  gnawing  at  my  heart." 

A  little  further  on,  you  see  an  old  soldier 
changing  his  linen.  His  face  and  body  are  of  a 
sort  of  cinnamon-brown  color,  and  gaunt  as  a 
skeleton.  He  has  no  arm  at  all ;  it  has  been  cut 
off  at  the  shoulder.  He  is  sitting  with  a  wide- 
awake air,  he  puts  himself  to  rights  ;  but  you  see, 
by  his  dull,  corpse-like  gaze,  his  frightful  gaunt- 
ness,  and  the  wrinkles  on  his  face,  that  he  is  a  be- 
ing who  has  suffered  for  the  best  part  of  his  life. 

On  the  other  side,  you  behold  in  a  cot  the  pale, 
suffering,  and  delicate  face  of  a  woman,  upon 
whose  cheek  plays  a  feverish  flush. 

"■  That's  our  little  sailor  lass  who  was  struck  in 
the  leg  by  a  bomb  on  the  5th,"  your  guide  tells 
you.  *'  She  was  carrying  her  husband's  dinner  to 
him  in  the  bastion." 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 


17 


"  Has  it  been  amputated  ?  " 

"  They  cut  it  off  above  the  knee." 

Now,  if  your  nerves  are  strong,  pass  through 
the  door  on  the  left.  In  yonder  room  they  are 
applying  bandages  and  performing  operations. 
There,  you  will  see  doctors  with  their  arms  blood- 
stained above  the  elbow,  and  with  pale,  stern 
faces,  busied  about  a  cot,  upon  which,  with  eyes 
widely  opened,  and  uttering,  as  in  delirium,  inco- 
herent, sometimes  simple  and  touching  words, 
lies  a  wounded  man  under  the  influence  of  chloro- 
form: The  doctors  are  busy  with  the  repulsive 
but  beneficent  work  of  amputation.  You  see  the 
sharp,  curved  knife  enter  the  healthy,  white  body, 
you  see  the  wounded  man  suddenly  regain  con- 
sciousness with  a  piercing  cry  and  curses,  you 
see  the  army  surgeon  fling  the  amputated  arm 
into  a  corner,  you  see  another  wounded  man, 
lying  in  a  litter  in  the  same  apartment,  shrink 
convulsively  and  groan  as  he  gazes  at  the  opera- 
tion upon  his  comrade,  not  so  much  from  physical 
pain  as  from  the  moral  torture  of  anticipation.  — 
You  behold  the  frightful,  soul-stirring  scenes ;  you 
behold  war,  not  from  its  conventional,  beautiful, 
and  brilliant  side,  with  music  and  drum-beat,  with 


1 8  SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 

fluttering  flags  and  galloping  generals,  but  you 
behold  war  in  its  real  phase  —  in  blood,  in  suffer- 
ing, in  death. 

On  emerging  from  this  house  of  pain,  you  will 
infallibly  experience  a  sensation  of  pleasure,  you 
will  inhale  the  fresh  air  more  fully,  you  will  feel 
satisfaction  in  the  consciousness  of  your  health, 
but,  at  the  same  time,  you  will  draw  from  the 
sight  of  these  sufferings  a  consciousness  of  your 
nothingness,  and  you  will  go  calmly  and  without 
any  indecision  to  the  bastion. 

"  What  do  the  death  and  sufferings  of  such  an 
insignificant  worm  as  I  signify  in  comparison  with 
so  many  deaths  and  such  great  sufferings  }  "  But 
the  sight  of  the  clear  sky,  the  brilliant  sun,  the 
fine  city,  the  open  church,  and  the  soldiers  moving 
about  in  various  directions  soon  restores  your 
mind  to  its  normal  condition  of  frivolit)^,  petty 
cares,  and  absorption  in  the  present  alone. 

Perhaps  you  meet  the  funeral  procession  of 
some  officer  coming  from  the  church,  with  rose- 
colored  coffin,  and  music  and  fluttering  banners ; 
perhaps  the  sounds  of  firing  reach  your  ear  from 
the  bastion,  but  this  does  not  lead  you  back  to 
your  former  thoughts ;  the  funeral  seems  to  you 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  DECEMBER.  19 

a  very  fine  military  spectacle,  and  you  do  not 
connect  with  this  spectacle,  or  with  the  sounds, 
any  clear  idea  of  suffering  and  death,  as  you  did 
at  the  point  where  the  bandaging  was  going  on. 

Passing  the  barricade  and  the  church,  you  come 
to  the  most  lively  part  of  the  city.  On  both  sides 
hang  the  signs  of  shops  and  inns.  Merchants, 
women  in  bonnets  and  kerchiefs,  dandified  officers, 
—  everything  speaks  to  you  of  the  firmness  of 
spirit,  of  the  independence  and  the  security  of  the 
inhabitants. 

Enter  the  inn  on  the  right  if  you  wish  to  hear 
the  conversations  of  sailors  and  officers ;  stories 
of  the  preceding  night  are  sure  to  be  in  progress 
there,  and  of  Fenka,  and  the  affair  of  the  24th, 
and  of  the  dearness  and  badness  of  cutlets,  and  of 
such  and  such  a  comrade  who  has  been  killed. 

"  Devil  take  it,  how  bad  things  are  with  us  to- 
day!" ejaculates  the  bass  voice  of  a  beardless 
naval  officer,  with  white  brows  and  lashes,  in  a 
green  knitted  sash. 

"  Where  } "  asks  another. 

"  In  the  fourth  bastion,"  replies  the  young  offi- 
cer, and  you  are  certain  to  look  at  the  white-lashed 
officer  with  great  attention,  and  even  with  some 


20  SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 

respect,  at  the  words,  "in  the  fourth  bastion." 
His  excessive  ease  of  manner,  the  way  he  flour- 
ishes his  hands,  his  loud  laugh,  and  his  voice,  which 
seems  to  you  insolent,  reveal  to  you  that  peculiar 
boastful  frame  of  mind  which  some  very  young 
men  acquire  after  danger ;  nevertheless,  you  think 
he  is  about  to  tell  you  how  bad  the  condition  of 
things  on  the  fourth  bastion  is  because  of  the  bombs 
and  balls.  Nothing  of  the  sort !  things  are  bad  be- 
cause it  is  muddy.  "  It's  impossible  to  pass  through 
the  battery,"  says  he,  pointing  at  his  boots,  which 
are  covered  with  mud  above  the  calf.  "And  my 
best  gun-captain  was  killed  to-day  ;  he  was  struck 
plump  in  the  forehead,"  says  another.  "  Who's  that } 
Mitiukhin  }  "  "No  !  .  .  .  What  now,  are  they  going 
to  give  me  any  veal  ?  the  villains  !  "  he  adds  to  the 
servant  of  the  inn.  "  Not  Mitiukhin,  but  Abrosi- 
moff.  Such  a  fine  young  fellow !  —  he  was  in  the 
sixth  sally." 

At  another  corner  of  the  table,  over  a  dish  of 
cutlets  with  peas,  and  a  bottle  of  sour  Crimean 
wine  called  "  Bordeaux,"  sit  two  infantry  officers ; 
one  with  a  red  collar,  who  is  young  and  has  two 
stars  on  his  coat,  is  telling  the  other,  with  a  black 
collar  and  no  stars,  about  the  affair  at  Alma.     The 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER.  2 1 

former  has  already  drunk  a  good  deal,  and  it  is 
evident,  from  the  breaks  in  his  narrative,  from  his 
undecided  glance  expressive  of  doubt  as  to  whether 
he  is  believed,  and  chiefly  from  the  altogether  too 
prominent  part  which  he  has  played  in  it  all,  and 
from  the  excessive  horror  of  it  all,  that  he  is 
strongly  disinclined  to  bear  strict  witness  to  the 
truth.  But  these  tales,  which  you  will  hear  for  a 
long  time  to  come  in  every  corner  of  Russia,  are 
nothing  to  you  ;  you  prefer  to  go  to  the  bastions, 
especially  to  the  fourth,  of  which  you  have  heard 
so  many  and  such  diverse  things.  When  any  one 
says  that  he  has  been  in  the  fourth  bastion,  he 
says  it  with  a  peculiar  air  of  pride  and  satisfaction  ; 
when  any  one  says,  *'  I  am  going  to  the  fourth  bas- 
tion," either  a  little  agitation  or  a  very  great  in- 
difference is  infallibly  perceptible  in  him  ;  when 
any  one  wants  to  jest  about  another,  he  says, 
"You  must  be  stationed  in  the  fourth  bastion  ;" 
when  you  meet  litters  and  inquire  whence  they 
come,  the  answer  is  generally,  "  From  the  fourth 
bastion."  On  the  whole,  two  totally  different 
opinions  exist  with  regard  to  this  terrible  bastion ; 
one  is  held  by  those  who  have  never  been  in  it, 
and  who  are  convinced  that  the  fourth  bastion  is  a 


22  SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 

regular  grave  for  every  one  who  enters  it,  and  the 
other  by  those  who  live  in  it,  like  the  white-lashed 
midshipman,  and  who,  when  they  mention  the 
fourth  bastion,  will  tell  you  whether  it  is  dry  or 
muddy  there,  whether  it  is  warm  or  cold  in  the 
mud  hut,  and  so  forth.      * 

During  the  half-hour  which  you  have  passed  in 
the  inn,  the  weather  has  changed  ;  a  fog  which 
before  spread  over  the  sea  has  collected  into 
damp,  heavy,  gray  clouds,  and  has  veiled  the  sun  ; 
a  kind  of  melancholy,  frozen  mist  sprinkles  from 
above,  and  wets  the  roofs,  the  sidewalks,  and  the 
soldiers'  overcoats. 

Passing  by  yet  another  barricade,  you  emerge 
from  the  door  at  the  right  and  ascend  the  principal 
street.  Behind  this  barricade,  the  houses  are  un- 
occupied on  both  sides  of  the  street,  there  are  no 
signs,  the  doors  are  covered  with  boards,  the  win- 
dows are  broken  in ;  here  the  corners  are  broken 
away,  there  the  roofs  are  pierced.  The  buildings 
seem  to  be  old,  to  have  undergone  every  sort  of 
vicissitude  and  deprivation  characteristic  of  vet- 
erans, and  appear  to  gaze  proudly  and  somewhat 
scornfully  upon  you.  You  stumble  over  the  can- 
non-balls which   strew  the    way,  and   into    holes 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 


23 


filled  with  water,  which  have  been  excavated  in 
the  stony  ground  by  the  bombs.  In  the  street 
you  meet  and  overtake  bodies  of  soldiers,  sharp- 
shooters, officers ;  now  and  then  you  encounter  a 
woman  or  a  child,  but  it  is  no  longer  a  woman  in 
a  bonnet,  but  a  sailor's  daughter  in  an  old  fur 
cloak  and  soldier's  boots.  As  you  proceed  along 
the  street,  and  descend  a  small  declivity,  you 
observe  that  there  are  no  longer  any  houses  about 
you,  but  only  some  strange  heaps  of  ruined  stones, 
boards,  clay,  and  beams  ;  ahead  of  you,  upon  a 
steep  hill,  you  perceive  a  black,  muddy  expanse, 
intersected  by  canals,  and  this  that  is  in  front  is 
the  fourth  bastion.  Here  you  meet  still  fewer 
people,  no  women  are  visible,  the  soldiers  walk 
briskly,  you  come  across  drops  of  blood  on  the 
road,  and  you  will  certainly  encounter  there  four 
soldiers  with  a  stretcher  and  upon  the  stretcher  a 
pale  yellowish  face  and  a  blood-stained  overcoat. 
If  you  inquire,  "  Where  is  he  wounded  ? "  the 
bearers  will  say  angrily,  without  turning  towards 
you,  "In  the  leg  or  the  arm,"  if  he  is  slightly 
wounded,  or  they  will  preserve  a  gloomy  silence 
if  no  head  is  visible  on  the  stretcher  and  he  is  al- 
ready dead  or  badly  hurt. 


24  SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 

The  shriek  of  a  cannon-ball  or  a  bomb  close  by 
surprises  you  unpleasantly,  as  you  ascend  the  hill. 
You  understand  all  at  once,  and  quite  differently 
from  what  you  '  have  before,  the  significance  of 
those  sounds  of  shot-s  which  you  heard  in  the 
city.  A  quietly  cheerful  memory  flashes  sud- 
denly before  your  fancy ;  your  own  personality 
begins  to  occupy  you  more  than  your  observa- 
tions ;  your  attention  to  all  that  surrounds  you 
diminishes,  and  a  certain  disagreeable  feeling  of 
uncertainty  suddenly  overmasters  you.  In  spite 
of  this  decidedly  base  voice,  which  Suddenly 
speaks  within  you,  at  the  sight  of  danger,  you 
force  it  to  be  silent,  especially  when  you  glance 
at  a  soldier  who  runs  laughing  past  you  at  a  trot, 
waving  his  hands,  and  slipping  down  the  hill  in 
the  mud,  and  you  involuntarily  expand  your 
chest,  throw  up  your  head  a  little  higher,  and 
climb  the  slippery,  clayey  hill.  As  soon  as 
you  have  reached  the  top,  rifle-balls  begin  to 
whiz  to  the  right  and  left  of  you,  and,  possibly, 
you  begin  to  reflect  whether  you  will  not  go  into 
the  trench  which  runs  parallel  with  the  road  ;  but 
this  trench  is  full  of  such  yellow,  liquid,  foul- 
smelling  mud,  more  than  knee-deep,  that  you  will 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECRMHRR.  25 

infallibly  choose  the  path  on  the  hill,  the  more  so 
as  you  see  that  every  one  uses  the  path.  After 
traversing  a  couple  of  hundred  paces,  you  emerge 
upon  a  muddy  expanse,  all  ploughed  up,  and  sur- 
rounded on  all  sides  by  gabions,  earthworks,  plat- 
forms, earth  huts,  upon  which  great  cast-iron 
guns  stand,  and  cannon-balls  lie  in  symmetrical 
heaps.  All  these  seem  to  be  heaped  up  with- 
out any  aim,  connection,  or  order.  Here  in  the 
battery  sit  a  knot  of  sailors ;  there  in  the  middle 
of  the  square,  half  buried  in  mud,  lies  a  broken 
cannon  ;  further  on,  a  foot-soldier,  with  his  gun,  is 
marching  through  the  battery,  and  dragging  his 
feet  with  difficulty  through  the  sticky  soil.  But 
everywhere,  on  all  sides,  in  every  spot,  you  see 
broken  dishes,  unexploded  bombs,  cannon-balls, 
signs  of  encampment,  all  sunk  in  the  liquid,  vis- 
cous mud.  You  seem  to  hear  not  far  from  you  the 
thud  of  a  cannon-ball  ;  on  all  sides,  you  seem  to 
hear  the  varied  sounds  of  balls,  —  humming  like 
bees,  whistling  sharply,  or  in  a  whine  like  a  cord 
—  you  hear  the  frightful  roar  of  the  fusillade, 
which  seems  to  shake  you  all  through  with  some 
horrible  fright. 

"So  this  is  it,  the  fourth  bastion,  this  is   it  — 


26  SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 

that  terrible,  really  frightful  place  !  "  you  think  to 
yourself,  and  you  experience  a  little  sensation  of 
pride,  and  a  very  large  sensation  of  suppressed 
terror.  But  you  are  mistaken,  this  is  not  the 
fourth  bastion.  It  is  the  Yazonovsky  redoubt  — 
a  place  which  is  comparatively  safe,  and  not  at  all 
dreadful. 

In  order  to  reach  the  fourth  bastion,  you 
turn  to  the  right,  through  this  narrow  trench, 
through  which  the  foot-soldier  has  gone.  In  this 
trench  you  will  perhaps  meet  stretchers  again, 
sailors  and  soldiers  with  shovels  ;  you  will  see  the 
superintendent  of  the  mines,  mud  huts,  into 
which  only  two  men  can  crawl-  by  bending  down, 
and  there  you  will  see  sharpshooters  of  the  Black 
Sea  battalions,  who  are  changing  their  shoes, 
eating,  smoking  their  pipes,  and  living ;  and 
you  will  still  see  everywhere  that  same  stinking 
mud,  traces  of  a  camp,  and  cast-off  iron  debris  in 
every  possible  form.  Proceeding  yet  three  hun- 
dred paces,  you  will  emerge  again  upon  a  battery, 
—  on  an  open  space,  all  cut  up  into  holes  and  sur- 
rounded by  gabions,  covered  with  earth,  cannon, 
and  earthworks.  Here  you  will  perhaps  see  five 
sailors   playing   cards    under   the    shelter   of   the 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER.  2/ 

breastworks,  and  a  naval  officer  who,  perceiving 
that  you  are  a  new-comer,  and  curious,  will  with 
pleasure  show  his  household  arrangements,  and 
everything  which  may  be  of  interest  to  you. 

This  officer  rolls  himself  a  cigarette  of  yellow 
paper,  with  so  much  composure  as  he  sits  on  a 
gun,  walks  so  calmly  from  one  embrasure  to  an- 
other, converses  with  you  so  quietly,  without  the 
slightest  affectation,  that,  in  spite  of  the  bullets 
which  hum  above  you  even  more  thickly  than 
before,  you  become  cool  yourself,  question  atten- 
tively, and  listen  to  the  officer's  replies. 

This  officer  will  tell  you,  but  only  if  you  ask  him, 
about  the  bombardment  on  the  5th,  he  will  tell 
you  how  only  one  gun  in  his  battery  could  be 
used,  and  out  of  all  the  gunners  who  served  it 
only  eight  remained,  and  how,  nevertheless,  on 
the  next  morning,  the  6th,  he  fired  all  the  guns ; 
he  will  tell  you  how  a  bomb  fell  upon  a  sailor's 
earth  hut  on  the  5th,  and  laid  low  eleven  men  ; 
he  will  point  out  to  you,  from  the  embrasures, 
the  enemy's  batteries  and  entrenchments,  which 
are  not  more  than  thirty  or  forty  fathoms  distant 
from  this  point.  I  fear,  however,  that,  under 
the  influence  of   the  whizzing   bullets,   you   may 


28  SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 

thrust  yourself  out  of  the  embrasure  in  order  to 
view  the  enemy;  you  will  see  nothing,  and,  if  you 
do  see  anything,  you  will  be  very  much  surprised 
that  that  white  stone  wall,  which  is  so  near  you 
and  from  which  white  smoke  rises  in  puffs,  —  that 
that  white  wall  is  the  enemy  —  he,  as  the  soldiers 
and  sailors  say. 

It  is  even  quite  possible  that  the  naval  offi- 
cer will  want  to  discharge  a  shot  or  two  in 
your  presence,  out  of  vanity  or  simply  for  his 
own  pleasure.  "  Send  the  captain  and  his  crew 
to  the  cannon ; "  and  fourteen  sailors  step  up 
briskly  and  merrily  to  the  gun  and  load  it  — 
one  thrusting  his  pipe  into  his  pocket,  another 
one  chewing  a  biscuit,  still  another  clattering  his 
heels  on  the  platform. 

Observe  the  faces,  the  bearing,  the  movements 
of  these  men.  In  every  wrinkle  of  that  sunburned 
face,  with  its  high  cheek-bones,  in  every  muscle,  in 
the  breadth  of  those  shoulders,  in  the  stoutness  of 
those  legs  shod  in  huge  boots,  in  every  calm,  firm, 
deliberate  gesture,  these  chief  traits  which  consti- 
tute the  power  of  Russia  —  simplicity  and  straight- 
forwardness —  are  visible  ;  but  here,  on  every  face, 
it   seems  to  you  that  the  danger,  misery,  and  the 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  DECEMBER.  29 

sufferings  of  war  have,  in  addition  to  these  princi- 
pal characteristics,  left  traces  of  consciousness  of 
personal  worth,  emotion,  and  exalted  thought. 

All  at  once  a  frightful  roar,  which  shakes  not 
your  organs  of  hearing  alone  but  your  whole 
being,  startles  you  so  that  you  tremble  all  over. 
Then  you  hear  the  distant  shriek  of  the  shot 
as  it  pursues  its  course,  and  the  dense  smoke  of 
the  powder  conceals  from  you  the  platform  and 
the  black  figures  of  the  sailors  who  are  moving 
about  upon  it.  You  hear  various  remarks  of  the 
sailors  in  reference  to  this  shot,  and  you  see  their 
animation,  and  an  exhibition  of  a  feeling  which 
you  had  not  expected  to  behold  perhaps  —  a 
feeling  of  malice,  of  revenge  against  the  enemy, 
which  lies  hidden  in  the  soul  of  each  man.  **  It 
struck  the  embrasure  itself ;  it  seems  to  have 
killed  two  men  —  see,  they've  carried  them  off !  " 
you  hear  in  joyful  exclamation.  "  And  now  they 
are  angry ;  they'll  fire  at  us  directly,"  says  some 
one  ;  and,  in  fact,  shortly  after  you  see  a  flash  in 
front  and  smoke  ;  the  sentry,  who  is  standing  on 
the  breastwork,  shouts  "  Can-non  !  "  And  then 
the  ball  shrieks  past  you,  strikes  the  earth,  and 
scatters  a  shower  of  dirt  and  stones  about  it. 


30 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  DECEMBER. 


This  ball  enrages  the  commander  of  the  battery  ; 
he  orders  a  second  and  a  third  gun  to  be  loaded, 
the  enemy  also  begins  to  reply  to  us,  and  you 
experience  a  sensation  of  interest,  you  hear  and 
see  interesting  things.  Again  the  sentry  shouts, 
"  Can-non  !  "  and  you  hear  the  same  report  and 
blow,  the  same  shower,  or  he  shouts  "  Mortar  !  " 
and  you  hear  the  monotonous,  even  rather  pleasant 
whistle  of  the  bomb,  with  which  it  is  difficult  to 
connect  the  thought  of  horror ;  you  hear  this  whis- 
tle approaching  you,  and  increasing  in  swiftness, 
then  you  see  the  black  sphere,  the  impact  on  the 
ground,  the  resounding  explosion  of  the  bomb 
which  can  be  felt.  With  the  whistle  and  shriek, 
splinters  fly  again,  stones  whiz  through  the  air, 
and  mud  showers  over  you.  At  these  sounds  you 
experience  a  strange  feeling  of  enjoyment,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  of  terror.  At  the  moment  when 
you  know  that  the  projectile  is  flying  towards  you, 
it  will  infallibly  occur  to  you  that  this  shot  will 
kill  you ;  but  the  feeling  of  self-love  upholds  you, 
and  no  one  perceives  the  knife  which  is  cutting 
your  heart.  But  when  the  shot  has  flown  past 
without  touching  you,  you  grow  animated,  and  a 
certain    cheerful,    inexpressibly   pleasant    feeling 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  DECEMBER.  31 

overpowers  you,  but  only  for  a  moment,  so  that 
you  discover  a  peculiar  sort  of  charm  in  danger, 
in  this  game  of  life  and  death,  you  want  cannon- 
balls  or  bombs  to  strike  nearer  to  you. 

But  again  the  sentry  has  shouted  in  his  loud, 
thick  voice,  "  Mortar  !  "  again  there  is  a  shriek, 
and  a  bomb  bursts,  but  with  this  noise  comes  the 
groan  of  a  man.  You  approach  the  wounded  man, 
at  the  same  moment  with  the  bearers ;  he  has  a 
strange,  inhuman  aspect,  covered  as  he  is  with 
blood  and  mud.  A  part  of  the  sailor's  breast  has 
been  torn  away.  During  the  fir^t  moments,  there 
is  visible  on  his  mud-stained  face  only  fear  and  a 
certain  simulated,  premature  expression  of  suffer- 
ing, peculiar  to  men  in  that  condition  ;  but,  at  the 
same  time,  as  the  stretcher  is  brought  to  him  and 
he  is  laid  upon  it  on  his  sound  side,  you  observe 
that  this  expression  is  replaced  by  an  expression 
of  a  sort  of  exaltation  and  lofty,  inexpressible 
thought.  His  eyes  shine  more  brilliantly,  his 
teeth  are  clenched,  his  head  is  held  higher  with 
difficulty,  and,  as  they  lift  him  up,  he  stops  the 
bearers  and  says  to  his  comrades,  with  difficulty 
and  in  a  trembling  voice  :  "  F'arewell,  brothers  !  " 
He  tries  to  say  something  more,  an^  it  is  plain 


32  SEVASTOPOL  IN  DECEMBER. 

that  he  wants  to  say  something  touching,  but  he 
repeats  once  more  :    "  Farewell,  brothers  !  " 

At  that  moment,  one  of  his  fellow-sailors  steps 
up  to  him,  puts  the  cap  on  the  head  which  the 
wounded  man  holds  towards  him,  and,  waving 
his  hand  indifferently,  returns  calmly  to  his  gun. 
*'  That's  the  way  with  seven  or  eight  men  every 
day,"  says  the  naval  officer  to  you,  in  reply  to  the 
expression  of  horror  which  has  appeared  upon 
your  countenance,  as  he  yawns  and  rolls  a  cigar- 
ette of  yellow  paper. 

Thus  you  have  seen  the  defenders  of  Sevastopol, 
on  the  very  scene  of  the  defence,  and  you  go  back 
paying  no  attention,  for  some  reason  or  other,  to 
the  cannon-balls  and  bullets,  which  continue  to 
shriek  the  whole  way  until  you  reach  the  ruined 
theatre, — you  proceed  with  composure,  and  with 
your  soul  in  a  state  of  exaltation. 

The  principal  and  cheering  conviction  which 
you  have  brought  away  is  the  conviction  of  the 
impossibility  of  the  Russian  people  wavering  any- 
where whatever  —  and  this  impossibility  you  have 
discerned  not  in  the  multitude  of  traverses,  breast- 
works,  artfully   interlaced   trenches,    mines,    and 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  DECEMBER.  33 

ordnance,  piled  one  upon  the  other,  of  which 
you  have  comprehended  nothing  ;  but  you  have 
discerned  it  in  the  eyes,  the  speech,  the  man- 
ners, in  what  is  called  the  spirit  of  the  defen- 
ders of  Sevastopol.  What  they  are  doing  they 
do  so  simply,  with  so  little  effort  and  exertion, 
that  you  are  convinced  that  they  can  do  a 
hundred  times  more  —  that  they  can  do  any- 
thing. You  understand  that  the  feeling  which 
makes  them  work  is  not  a  feeling  of  pettiness, 
ambition,  forgetfulness,  which  you  have  yourself 
experienced,  but  a  different  sentiment,  one  more 
powerful,  and  one  which  has  made  of  them  men 
who  live  with  their  ordinary  composure  under 
the  fire  of  cannon,  amid  hundreds  of  chances  of 
death,  instead  of  the  one  to  which  all  men  are 
subject  who  live  under  these  conditions  amid  in- 
cessant labor,  poverty,  and  dirt.  Men  will  not  ac- 
cept these  frightful  conditions  for  the  sake  of  a 
cross  or  a  title,  nor  because  of  threats  ;  there 
must  be  another  lofty  incentive  as  a  cause,  and 
this  cause  is  the  feeling  which  rarely  appears,  of 
which  a  Russian  is  ashamed,  that  which  lies  at  the 
bottom  of  each  man's  soul  —  love  for  his  country. 
Only  now  have  the  tales  of  the  early  days  of  the 


34  SEVASTOPOL  IN  DECEMBER. 

siege  of  Sevastopol,  when  there  were  no  fortifica- 
tions there,  no  army,  no  physical  possibility  of 
holding  it,  and  when  at  the  same  time  there  was 
not  the  slightest  doubt  that  it  would  not  surren- 
der to  the  enemy,  —  of  the  days  when  that  hero 
worthy  of  ancient  Greece,  Korniloff,  said,  as  he 
reviewed  the  army:  "We  will  die,  children,  but 
we  will  not  surrender  Sevastopol ; "  and  our  Rus- 
sians, who  are  not  fitted  to  be  phrase-makers,  re- 
plied :  "  We  will  die  !  hurrah  !  "  —  only  now  have 
tales  of  that  time  ceased  to  be  for  you  the  most 
beautiful  historical  legends,  and  have  become 
real  facts  and  worthy  of  belief.  You  comprehend 
clearly,  you  figure  to  yourself,  those  men  whom 
you  have  just  seen,  as  the  very  heroes  of  those 
grievous  times,  who  have  not  fallen,  but  have 
been  raised  by  the  spirit,  and  have  joyfully  pre- 
pared for  death,  not  for  the  sake  of  the  city,  but 
of  the  country.  This  epos  of  Sevastopol,  whose 
hero  was  the  Russian  people,  will  leave  mighty 
traces  in  Russia  for  a  long  time  to  come. 

Night  is  already  falling.  The  sun  has  emerged 
from  the  gray  clouds,  which  cover  the  sky  just 
before  its  setting,  and  has  suddenly  illuminated 
with  a  crimson  glow  the  purple  vapors,  the  green- 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  DECEMBER.  35 

ish  sea  covered  with  ships  and  boats  rocking  on 
the  regular  swell,  and  the  white  buildings  of  the 
city,  and  the  people  who  are  moving  through  its 
streets.  Sounds  of  some  old  waltz  played  by  the 
regimental  band  on  the  boulevard,  and  the  sounds 
of  firing  from  the  bastions,  which  echo  them 
strangely,  are  borne  across  the  water. 


SEVASTOPOL   IN   MAY,    1855. 

I. 

Six  months  have  already  passed  since  the  first 
cannon-ball  whistled  from  the  bastions  of  Sevas- 
topol, and  ploughed  the  earth  in  the  works  of  the 
enemy,  and  since  that  day  thousands  of  bombs, 
cannon-balls,  and  rifle-balls  have  been  flying  in- 
cessantly from  the  bastions  into  the  trenches  and 
from  the  trenches  into  the  bastions,  and  the  angel 
of  death  has  never  ceased  to  hover  over  them. 

Thousands  of  men  have  been  disappointed  in 
satisfying  their  ambition ;  thousands  have  suc- 
ceeded in  satisfying  theirs,  in  becoming  swollen 
with  pride  ;  thousands  repose  in  the  embrace  of 
death.  How  many  red  coffins  and  canvas  cano- 
pies there  have  been  !  And  still  the  same  sounds 
are  echoed  from  the  bastions,  and  still  on  clear 
evenings  the  French  peer  from  their  camp, 
with  involuntary  tremor,  at  the  yellow,  furrowed 
bastions  of  Sevastopol,  at  the  black  forms  of 
our  sailors  moving  about  upon  them,  and  count 

37 


38  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY, 

the  embrasures  and  the  iron  cannon  which  pro- 
ject angrily  from  them ;  the  under  officer  still 
gazes  through  his  telescope,  from  the  heights 
of  the  telegraph  station,  at  the  dark  figures  of 
the  French  at  their  batteries,  at  their  tents,  at 
the  columns  moving  over  the  green  hill,  and  at 
the  puffs  of  smoke  which  issue  forth  from  the 
trenches,  —  and  a  crowd  of  men,  formed  of  divers 
races,  still  streams  in  throngs  from  various  quar- 
ters, with  the  same  ardor  as  ever,  and  with  desires 
differing  even  more  greatly  than  their  races, 
towards  this  fateful  spot.  And  the  question, 
unsolved  by  the  diplomats,  has  still  not  been 
solved  by  powder  and  blood. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


39 


II. 

On  the  boulevard  of  the  besieged  city  of  Sevas- 
topol, not  far  from  the  pavilion,  the  regimental 
band  was  playing,  and  throngs  of  military  men 
and  of  women  moved  gayly  through  the  streets. 
The  brilliant  sun  of  spring  had  risen  in  the  morn- 
ing over  the  works  of  the  English,  had  passed 
over  the  bastions,  then  over  the  city,  over  the 
Nikolaevsky  barracks,  and,  illuminating  all  with 
equal  cheer,  had  now  sunk  into  the  blue  and  dis- 
tant sea,  which  was  lighted  with  a  silvery  gleam 
as  it  heaved  in  peace. 

A  tall,  rather  bent  infantry  officer,  who  was 
drawing  upon  his  hand  a  glove  which  was  present- 
able, if  not  entirely  white,  came  out  of  one  of  the 
small  naval  huts,  built  on  the  left  side  of  the 
Morskaya*  street,  and,  staring  thoughtfully  at 
the  ground,  took  his  way  up  the  slope  to  the 
boulevard. 

The  expression  of  this  officer's  homely  counte- 

*  Sea. 


40 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 


nance  did  not  indicate  any  great  mental  capacity, 
but  rather  simplicity,  judgment,  honor,  and  a  ten- 
dency to  solid  worth.  He  was  badly  built,  not 
graceful,  and  he  seemed  to  be  constrained  in  his 
movements.  He  was  dressed  in  a  little  worn  cap, 
a  cloak  of  a  rather  peculiar  shade  of  lilac,  from 
beneath  whose  edge  the  gold  of  a  watch-chain  was 
visible ;  in  trousers  with  straps,  and  brilliantly 
polished  calfskin  boots.  He  must  have  been 
either  a  German  —  but  his  features  clearly  indi- 
cate his  purely  Russian  descent — or  an  adjutant, 
or  a  regimental  quartermaster,  only  in  that  case 
he  would  have  had  spurs,  or  an  officer  who  had 
exchanged  from  the  cavalry  for  the  period  of  the 
campaign,  or  possibly  from  the  Guards.  He  was, 
in  fact,  an  officer  who  had  exchanged  from  the 
cavalry,  and  as  he  ascended  the  boulevard,  at  the 
present  moment,  he  was  meditating  upon  a  let- 
ter which  he  had  just  received  from  a  former  com- 
rade, now  a  retired  land-owner  in  the  Government 
of  T.,  and  his  wife,  pale,  blue-eyed  Natasha,  his 
great  friend.  He  recalled  one  passage  of  the  let- 
ter, in  which  his  comrade  said  :  — 

"When  our  Invalid^    arrives,  Pupka  (this  was 

*  Military  Gazette. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


41 


the  name  by  which  the  retired  uhlan  called  his 
wife)  rushes  headlong  into  the  vestibule,  seizes  the 
paper,  and  runs  with  it  to  the  seat  in  the  arbor, 
in  the  draiviiig-room  (in  which,  if  you  remember, 
you  and  I  passed  such  delightful  winter  evenings 
when  the  regiment  was  stationed  in  our  town), 
and  reads  your  heroic  deeds  with  such  ardor  as 
it  is  impossible  for  you  to  imagine.  She  often 
speaks  of  you.  *  There  is  Mikhai'loff,'  she  says, 
*  he's  such  a  love  of  a  man.  I  am  ready  to  kiss 
him  when  I  see  him.  He  fights  on  the  bastions, 
and  he  will  surely  receive  the  Cross  of  St.  George, 
and  he  will  be  talked  about  in  the  newspapers 
.  .  .'  and  so  on,  and  so  on  ...  so  that  I  am 
really  beginning  to  be  jealous  of  you." 

In  another  place  he  writes  :  *'  The  papers  reach 
us  frightfully  late,  and,  although  there  is  plenty  of 
news  conveyed  by  word  of  mouth,  not  all  of  it  can 
be  trusted.  For  instance,  tho.  youjig  ladies  with  the 
m7isic,  acquaintances  of  yours,  were  saying  yester- 
day that  Napoleon  was  already  captured  by  our 
Cossacks,  and  that  he  had  been  sent  to  Peters- 
burg ;  but  you  will  comprehend  how  much  I  be- 
lieve of  this.  Moreover,  a  traveller  from  Peters- 
burg told  us  (he  has  been  sent  on  special  business 


42 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY, 


by  the  minister,  is  a  very  agreeable  person,  and, 
now  that  there  is  no  one  in  town,  he  is  more  of  a 
resource  to  us  than  you  can  well  imagine  .  .  .  ) 
well,  he  declares  it  to  be  a  fact  that  our  troops 
have  taken  Eupatoria,  so  that  the  French  have  7io 
communication  whatever  with  Balaklava,  and  that 
in  this  engagement  two  hundred  of  ours  were 
killed,  but  that  the  French  lost  fifteen  thousand. 
My  wife  was  in  such  raptures  over  this  that  she 
caroused  all  night,  and  she  declares  that  her  in- 
stinct tells  her  that  you  certainly  took  part  in  that 
affair,  and  that  you  distinguished  yourself." 

In  spite  of  these  words,  and  of  the  expressions 
which  I  have  purposely  put  in  italics,  and  the 
whole  tone  of  the  letter,  Staff-Captain  Mikharloff 
recalled,  with  inexpressibly  sad  delight,  his  pale 
friend  in  the  provinces,  and  how  she  had  sat  with 
him  in  the  arbor  in  the  evening,  and  talked  about 
sentiment,  and  he  thought  of  his  good  comrade,  the 
uhlan,  and  of  how  the  latter  had  grown  angry  and 
had  lost  the  game  when  they  had  played  cards  for 
kopek  stakes  in  his  study,  and  how  the  wife  had 
laughed  at  them  ...  he  recalled  the  friendship  of 
these  two  people  for  himself  (perhaps  it  seemed  to 
him  to  lie  chiefly  on  the  side  of  his  pale  feminine 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  43 

friend) ;  all  these  faces  with  their  surroundings 
flitted  before  his  mind's  eye,  in  a  wonderfully  sweet, 
cheerfully  rosy  light,  and,  smiling  at  his  reminis- 
cences, he  placed  his  hand  on  the  pocket  which 
contained  the  letter  so  dear  to  him. 

From  reminiscences  Captain  Mikha'iloff  invol- 
untarily proceeded  to  dreams  and  hopes.  "  And 
what  will  be  the  joy  and  amazement  of  Natasha," 
he  thought,  as  he  paced  along  the  narrow  lane, 
**.  .  .  when  she  suddenly  reads  in  the  Invalid 
a  description  of  how  I  was  the  first  to  climb  upon 
the  cannon,  and  that  I  have  received  the  George ! 
I  shall  certainly  be  promoted  to  a  full  captaincy, 
by  virtue  of  seniority.  Then  it  is  quite  possible 
that  I  may  get  the  grade  of  major  in  the  line,  this 
very  year,  because  many  of  our  brothers  have 
already  been  killed,  and  many  more  will  be  in  this 
campaign.  And  after  that  there  will  be  more 
affairs  on  hand,  and  a  regiment  will  be  entrusted 
to  me,  since  I  am  an  experienced  man  .  .  .  lieu- 
tenant-colonel .  .  .  the  Order  of  St.  Anna  on  my 
neck  .  .  .  colonel !  .  .  ."  and  he  was  already  a 
general,  granting  an  interview  to  Natasha,  the 
widow  of  his  comrade,  who,  according  to  his 
dreams,  would  have  died  by  that  time,  when  the 


44  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 

sounds  of  the  music  on  the  boulevard  penetrated 
more  distinctly  to  his  ears,  the  crowds  of  people 
caught  his  eye,  and  he  found  himself  on  the  boule- 
vard, a  staff-captain  of  infantry  as  before. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY, 


45 


III. 

He  went,  first  of  all,  to  the  pavilion,  near  which 
were  standing  the  musicians,  for  whom  other 
soldiers  of  the  same  regiment  were  holding  the 
notes,  in  the  absence  of  stands,  and  about  whom 
a  ring  of  cadets,  nurses,  and  children  had  formed, 
intent  rather  on  seeing  than  on  hearing.  Around 
the  pavilion  stood,  sat,  or  walked  sailors,  adju- 
tants, and  officers  in  white  gloves.  Along  the 
grand  avenue  of  the  boulevard  paced  officers  of 
every  sort,  and  women  of  every  description,  rarely 
in  bonnets,  mostly  with  kerchiefs  on  their  heads 
(some  had  neither  bonnets  nor  kerchiefs),  but  no 
one  was  old,  and  it  was  worthy  of  note  that  all 
were  gay  young  creatures.  Beyond,  in  the  shady 
and  fragrant  alleys  of  white  acacia,  isolated  groups 
walked  and  sat. 

No  one  was  especially  delighted  to  encounter 
Captain  Mikhailoff  on  the  boulevard,  with  the 
exception,  possibly,  of  the  captain  of  his  regiment, 
Obzhogoff,  and  Captain  Suslikoff,  who  pressed  his 


46  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

hand  warmly ;  but  the  former  was  dressed  in 
camel's-hair  trousers,  no  gloves,  a  threadbare 
coat,  and  his  face  was  very  red  and  covered  with 
perspiration,  and  the  second  shouted  so  loudly  and 
incoherently  that  it  was  mortifying  to  walk  with' 
them,  particularly  in  the  presence  of  the  officers 
in  white  gloves  (with  one  of  whom,  an  adjutant, 
Staff-Captain  Mikhafloff  exchanged  bows  ;  and  he 
might  have  bowed  to  another  staff-officer,  since  he 
had  met  him  twice  at  the  house  of  a  mutual  ac- 
quaintance). Besides,  what  pleasure  was  it  to 
him  to  promenade  with  these  two  gentlemen, 
Obzhogoff  and  Suslikoff,  when  he  had  met  them 
and  shaken  hands  with  them  six  times  that  day 
already  ?     It  was  not  for  this  that  he  had  come. 

He  wanted  to  approach  the  adjutant  with  whom 
he  had  exchanged  bows,  and  to  enter  into  conver- 
sation with  these  officers,  not  for  the  sake  of  let- 
ting Captains  Obzhogoff  and  Suslikoff  and  Lieuten- 
ant Pashtetzky  see  him  talking  with  them,  but 
simply  because  they  were  agreeable  people,  and, 
what  was  more,  they  knew  the  news,  and  would 
have  told  it. 

But  why  is  Captain  Mikhailoff  afraid,  and  why 
cannot  he  make  up  his  mind  to  approach  them  } 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  47 

"What  if  they  should,  all  at  once,  refuse  to  recog- 
nize me,"  he  thinks,  "  or,  having  bowed  to  me, 
what  if  they  continue  their  conversation  among 
themselves,  as  though  I  did  not  exist,  or  walk 
away  from  me  entirely,  and  leave  me  standing 
there  alone  among  the  aristocrats'''  The  word 
aristocrats  (in  the  sense  of  a  higher,  select  circle, 
in  any  rank  of  life)  has  acquired  for  some  time 
past  with  us,  in  Russia,  a  great  popularity,  and 
has  penetrated  into  every  locality  and  into  every 
class  of  society  whither  vanity  has  penetrated  — 
among  merchants,  among  officials,  writers,  and 
officers,  to  Saratoff,  to  Mamaduish,  to  Vinnitz, 
everywhere  where  men  exist. 

To  Captain  Obzhogoff,  Staff-Captain  MikhaYloff 
was  an  aristocrat.  To  Staff-Captain  Mikhafloff, 
Adjutant  Kalugin  was  an  aristocrat^  because  he 
was  an  adjutant,  and  was  on  such  a  footing  with 
the  other  adjutants  as  to  call  them  *'thou"!  To 
Adjutant  Kalugin,  Count  Nordoff  was  an  aristo- 
craty  because  he  was  an  adjutant  on  the  Emperor's 
staff. 

Vanity  !  vanity  !  and  vanity  everywhere,  even  on 
the  brink  of  the  grave,  and  among  men  ready  to 
die  for  the  highest  convictions.    Vanity  !     It  must 


48  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY, 

be  that  it  is  a  characteristic  trait,  and  a  peculiar 
malady  of  our  century.  Why  was  nothing  ever 
heard  among  the  men  of  former  days,  of  this  pas- 
sion, any  more  than  of  the  small-pox  or  the 
cholera  ?  Why  did  Homer  and  Shakspeare  talk 
of  love,  of  glory,  of  suffering,  while  the  literature 
of  our  age  is  nothing  but  an  endless  narrative  of 
snobs  and  vanity  ? 

The  staff-captain  walked  twice  in  indecision 
past  the  group  of  his  aristocrats,  and  the  third 
time  he  exerted  an  effort  over  himself  and  went 
up  to  them.  This  group  consisted  of  four  officers  : 
Adjutant  Kalugi^n,  an  acquaintance  of  Mikhaifloff's, 
Adjutant  Prince  Galtsin,  who  was  something  of 
an  aristocrat  even  for  Kalugin  himself.  Colonel 
Neferdoff,  one  of  the  so-called  hiindi-ed  and  twenty- 
two  men  of  the  world  (who  had  entered  the  ser- 
vice for  this  campaign,  from  the  retired  list),  and 
Captain  of  Cavalry  Praskukhin,  also  one  of  the 
hundred  and  twenty-two.  Luckily  for  Mikhailoff, 
Kalugin  was  in  a  very  fine  humor  (the  general 
had  just  been  talking  to  him  in  a  very  confidential 
way,  and  Prince  Galtsin,  who  had  just  arrived 
from  Petersburg,  was  stopping  with  him)  ;  he  did 
not  consider   it    beneath    his  dignity  to  give  his 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  ^g 

hand  to  Captain  MikhaYloff,  which  Praskukhin, 
however,  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  do, 
though  he  had  met  Mikhailoff  very  frequently 
on  the  bastion,  had  drunk  the  latter's  wine  and 
vodka,  and  was  even  indebted  to  him  twenty 
rubles  and  a  half  at  preference.  As  he  did  not 
yet  know  Prince  Galtsin  very  well,  he  did  not  wish 
to  convict  himself,  in  the  latter's  presence,  of  an 
acquaintance  with  a  simple  staff-captain  of  in- 
fantry.    He  bowed  slightly  to  the  latter. 

**  Well,  Captain,"  said  Kalugin,  "  when  are  we 
to  go  to  the  bastion  again  ?  Do  you  remember 
how  we  met  each  other  on  the  Schvartz  redoubt 
—  it  was  hot  there,  hey?" 

"  Yes,  it  was  hot,"  said  MikhaYloff,  recalling  how 
he  had,  that  night,  as  he  was  making  his  way 
along  the  trenches  to  the  bastion,  encountered 
Kalugin,  who  was  walking  along  like  a  hero, 
valiantly  clanking  his  sword.  "  I  ought  to  have 
gone  there  to-morrow,  according  to  present  ar- 
rangements ;  but  we  have  a  sick  man,"  pursued 
MikhaYloff,  "  one  officer,  as  .  .  ." 

He  was  about  to  relate  how  it  was  not  his  turn, 
but,  as  the  commander  of  the  eighth  company  was 
ill,  and  the  company  had  only  a  cornet  left,  he  had 


^O  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

regarded  it  as  his  duty  to  offer  himself  in  the 
place  of  Lieutenant  Nepshisetzky,  and  was,  there- 
fore, going  to  the  bastion  to-day.  But  Kalugin 
did  not  hear  him  out. 

"  I  have  a  feeling  that  something  is  going  to 
happen  within  a  few  days,"  he  said  to  Prince 
Galtsin. 

"  And  won't  there  be  something  to-day.?"  asked 
Mikhailoff,  glancing  first  at  Kalugin,  then  at 
Galtsin. 

No  one  made  him  any  reply.  Prince  Galtsin 
merely  frowned  a  little,  sent  his  eyes  past  the 
other's  cap,  and,  after  maintaining  silence  for  a 
moment,  said  :  — 

"  That's  a  magnificent  girl  in  the  red  kerchief. 
You  don't  know  her,  do  you,  captain  .''  " 

"  She  lives  near  my  quarters  ;  she  is  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  sailor,"  replied  the  staff-captain. 

**  Come  on  ;  let's  have  a  good  look  at  her." 

And  Prince  Galtsin  linked  one  arm  in  that  of 
Kalugin,  the  other  in  that  of  the  staff-captain, 
being  convinced  in  advance  that  he  could  afford 
the  latter  no  greater  gratification,  which  was,  in 
fact,  quite  true. 

The  staff-captain  was  superstitious,  and  consid- 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY.  51 

ered  it  a  great  sin  to  occupy  himself  with  women 
before  a  battle ;  but  on  this  occasion  he  feigned 
to  be  a  vicious  man,  which  Prince  Galtsin  and 
Kalugin  evidently  did  not  believe,  and  which 
greatly  amazed  the  girl  in  the  red  kerchief,  who 
had  more  than  once  observed  how  the  staff-captain 
blushed  as  he  passed  her  little  window.  Pras- 
kukhin  walked  behind,  and  kept  touching  Prince 
Galtsin  with  his  hand,  and  making  various  remarks 
in  the  French  tongue ;  but  as  a  fourth  person 
could  not  walk  on  the  small  path,  he  was  obliged 
to  walk  alone,  and  it  was  only  on  the  second  round 
that  he  took  the  arm  of  the  brave  and  well  known 
naval  officer  Servyagin,  who  had  stepped  up  and 
spoken  to  him,  and  who  was  also  desirous  of  join- 
ing the  circle  of  aristocrats.  And  the  gallant  and 
famous  beau  joyfully  thrust  his  honest  and  muscu- 
lar hand  through  the  elbow  of  a  man  who  was 
known  to  all,  and  even  well  known  to  Servyagin,  as 
not  too  nice.  When  Praskukhin,  explaining  to  the 
prince  his  acquaintance  with  that  sailor^  whispered 
to  him  that  the  latter  was  well  known  for  his 
bravery.  Prince  Galtsin,  having  been  on  the  fourth 
bastion  on  the  previous  evening,  having  seen  a 
bomb  burst  twenty  paces  from  him,  considering 


52  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

himself  no  less  a  hero  than  this  gentleman,  and 
thinking  that  many  a  reputation  is  acquired  unde- 
servedly, paid  no  particular  attention  to  Ser- 
vyagin. 

It  was  so  agreeable  to  Staff-Captain  Mikhailoff 
to  walk  about  in  this  company  that  he  forgot  the 

dear  letter  from  T ,  and  the  gloomy  thoughts 

which  had  assailed  him  in  connection  with  his 
impending  departure  for  the  bastion.  He  re- 
mained with  them  until  they  began  to  talk  exclu- 
sively among  themselves,  avoiding  his  glances, 
thereby  giving  him  to  understand  that  he  might 
go,  and  finally  deserted  him  entirely.  But  the 
staff-captain  was  content,  nevertheless,  and  as  he 
passed  Yunker  *  Baron  Pesth,  who  had  been  par- 
ticularly haughty  and  self-conceited  since  the 
preceding  night,  which  was  the  first  that  he  had 
spent  in  the  bomb-proof  of  the  fifth  bastion,  and 
consequently  considered  himself  a  hero,  he  was 
not  in  the  least  offended  at  the  presumptuous 
expression  with  which  the  yunker  straightened 
himself  up  and  doffed  his  hat  before  him. 

*  A  civilian,  without  military  training,  attached  to  a  regiment 
as  a  non-commissioned  officer,  who  may  eventually  become  a  reg- 
ular officer. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


53 


IV. 

When  later  the  staff-captain  crossed  the  thresh- 
old of  his  quarters,  entirely  different  thoughts 
entered  his  mind.  He  looked  around  his  little 
chamber,  with  its  uneven  earth  floor,  and  saw 
the  windows  all  awry,  pasted  over  with  paper, 
his  old  bed,  with  a  rug  nailed  over  it,  upon  which 
was  depicted  a  lady  on  horseback,  and  over  which 
hung  two  Tula  pistols,  the  dirty  couch  of  a  cadet 
who  lived  with  him,  and  which  was  covered  with 
a  chintz  coverlet ;  he  saw  his  Nikita,  who,  with 
untidy,  tallowed  hair,  rose  from  the  floor,  scratch- 
ing his  head ;  he  saw  his  ancient  cloak,  his 
extra  pair  of  boots,  and  a  little  bundle,  from 
which  peeped  a  bit  of  cheese  and  the  neck  of 
a  porter  bottle  filled  with  vodka,  which  had  been 
prepared  for  his  use  on  the  bastion,  and  all  at 
once  he  remembered  that  he  was  obliged  to  go 
with  his  company  that  night  to  the  fortifications. 

"  It  is  certainly  foreordained  that  I  am  to  be 
killed  to-night,"  thought  the  captain.  ..."  I  feel 


54 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


it.  And  the  principal  point  is  that  I  need  not 
have  gone,  but  that  I  offered  myself.  And  the 
man  who  thrusts  himself  forward  is  always  killed. 
And  what's  the  matter  with  that  accursed 
Nepshisetsky }  It  is  quite  possible  that  he  is  not 
sick  at  all ;  and  they  will  kill  another  man  for  his 
sake,  they  will  infallibly  kill  him.  However,  if 
they  don't  kill  me,  I  shall  be  promoted  probably. 
I  saw  how  delighted  the  regimental  commander 
was  when  I  asked  him  to  allow  me  to  go,  if 
Lieutenant  Nepshisetsky  was  ill.  If  I  don't  turn 
out  a  major,  then  I  shall  certainly  get  the  Vladi- 
mir cross.  This  is  the  thirteenth  time  that  I  have 
been  to  the  bastion.  Ah,  the  thirteenth  is  an  un- 
lucky number.  They  will  surely  kill  me,  I  feel 
that  I  shall  be  killed ;  but  some  one  had  to  go,  it 
was  impossible  for  the  lieutenant  of  the  corps  to 
go.  And,  whatever  happens,  the  honor  of  the 
regiment,  the  honor  of  the  army,  depends  on  it. 
It  was  my  duty  to  go  .  .  .  yes,  my  sacred  duty. 
But  I  have  a  foreboding." 

The  captain  forgot  that  this. was  not  the  first 
time  that  a  similar  foreboding  had  assailed  him, 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  when  it  had  been 
necessary  to  go  to  the  bastion,  and  he   did   not 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY.  55 

know  that  every  one  who  sets  out  on  an  affair 
experiences  this  foreboding  with  more  or  less 
force.  Having  calmed  himself  with  this  con- 
ception of  duty,  which  was  especially  and  strongly 
developed  in  the  staff-captain,  he  seated  him- 
self at  the  table,  and  began  to  write  a  farewell 
letter  to  his  father.  Ten  minutes  later,  having 
finished  his  letter,  he  rose  from  the  table,  his 
eyes  wet  with  tears,  and,  mentally  reciting  all 
the  prayers  he  knew,  he  set  about  dressing.  His 
coarse,  drunken  servant  indolently  handed  him  his 
new  coat  (the  old  one,  which  the  captain  generally 
wore  when  going  to  the  bastion,  was  not  mended). 

"  Why  is  riot  my  coat  mended }  You  never  do 
anything  but  sleep,  you  good-for-nothing ! "  said 
Mikhailoff,  angrily.  , 

"  Sleep !  "  grumbled  Nikita.  "  You  run  like  a 
dog  all  day  long;  perhaps  you  stop  —  but  you 
must  not  sleep,  even  then  !  " 

"  You  are  drunk  again,  I  see." 

"  I  didn't  get  drunk  on  your  money,  so  you 
needn't  scold." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  blockhead  !  "  shouted  the 
captain,  who  was  ready  to  strike  the  man.  He 
had  been  absent-minded  at  first,  but  now  he  was, 


56 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


at  last,  out  of  patience,,  and  embittered  by  the 
rudeness  of  Nikita,  whom  he  loved,  even  spoiled, 
and  who  had  lived  with  him  for  twelve  years. 

"  Blockhead  ?  Blockhead  ?  "  repeated  the  ser- 
vant. "  Why  do  you  call  me  a  blockhead,  sir  ? 
Is  this  a  time  for  that  sort  of  thing  ?  It  is  not 
good  to  curse." 

Mikhailoff  recalled  whither  he  was  on  the  point 
of  going,  and  felt  ashamed  of  himself. 

"  You  are  enough  to  put  a  saint  out  of  patience, 
Nikita,"  he  said,  in  a  gentle  voice.  "  Leave  that 
letter  to  my  father  on  the  table,  and  don't  touch 
it,"  he  added,  turning  red. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Nikita,  melting  under  the 
influence  of  the  wine  which  he  had  drunk,  as  he 
ha(]  said,  "  at  his  own  expense,"  and  winking  his 
eyes  with  a  visible  desire  to  weep. 

But  when  the  captain  said  :  "  Good-by,  Nikita," 
on  the  porch,  Nikita  suddenly  broke  down  into 
repressed  sobs,  and  ran  to  kiss  his  master's 
hand.  .  .  .  **  Farewell,  master ! "  he  exclaimed, 
sobbing.  The  old  sailor's  wife,  who  was  standing 
on  the  porch,  could  not,  in  her  capacity  of  a 
woman,  refrain  from  joining  in  this  touching 
scene,   so  she  began  to  wipe  her  eyes  with  her 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY.  57 

dirty  sleeve,  and  to  say  something  about  even 
gentlemen  having  their  trials  to  bear,  and  that 
she,  poor  creature,  had  been  left  a  widow.  And 
she  related  for  the  hundredth  time  to  drunken 
Nikita  the  story  of  her  woes  ;  how  her  husband 
had  been  killed  in  the  first  bombardment,  and 
how  her  little  house  had  been  utterly  ruined  (the 
one  in  which  she  was  now  living  did  not  belong 
to  her),  and  so  on.  When  his  master  had  de- 
parted, Nikita  lighted  his  pipe,  requested  the 
daughter  of  their  landlord  to  go  for  some  vodka, 
and  very  soon  ceased  to  weep,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, got  into  a  quarrel  with  the  old  woman  about 
some  small  bucket,  which,  he  declared,  she  had 
broken. 

"  But  perhaps  I  shall  only  be  wounded,"  medi- 
tated the  captain,  as  he  marched  through  the 
twilight  to  the  bastion  with  his  company.  "  But 
where  t  How  }  Here  or  here  t  "  he  thought, 
indicating  his  belly  and  his  breast.  ..."  If  it 
should  be  here  (he  thought  of  the  upper  portion 
of  his  leg),  it  might  run  round.  Well,  but  if  it 
were  here,  and  by  a  splinter,  that  would  finish 
me." 

The   captain   reached    the   fortifications   safely 


58  -S^  VASTOPOL  IN  MA  V. 

through  the  trenches,  set  his  men  to  work,  with 
the  assistance  of  an  officer  of  sappers,  in  the  dark- 
ness, which  was  complete,  and  seated  himself  in 
a  pit  behind  the  breastworks.  There  was  not 
much  firing ;  only  once  in  a  while  the  lightning 
flashed  from  our  batteries,  then  from  /its,  and  the 
brilliant  fuse  of  a  bomb  traced  an  arc  of  flame 
against  the  dark,  starry  heavens.  But  all  the 
bombs  fell  far  in  the  rear  and  to  the  right  of  the 
rifle-pits  in  which  the  captain  sat.  He  drank  his 
vodka,  ate  his  cheese,  lit  his  cigarette,  and,  after 
saying  his  prayers,  he  tried  to  get  a  little  sleep. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  59 


V. 

Prince  Galtsin,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Neferdoff, 
and  Praskukhin,  whom  no  one  had  invited,  to 
whom  no  one  spoke,  but  who  never  left  them,  all 
went  to  drink  tea  with  Adjutant  Kalugin. 

"Well,  you  did  not  finish  telling  me  about 
Vaska  Mendel,"  said  Kalugin,  as  he  took  off  his 
cloak,  seated  himself  by  the  window  in  a  soft 
lounging-chair,  and  unbuttoned  the  collar  of  his 
fresh,  stiffly  starched  cambric  shirt :  "  How  did 
he  come  to  marry  ?  " 

"  That's  a  joke,  my  dear  fellow  !  There  was  a 
time,  I  assure  you,  when  nothing  else  was  talked 
of  in  Petersburg,"  said  Prince  Galtsin,  with  a 
laugh,  as  he  sprang  up  from  the  piano,  and  seated 
himself  on  the  window  beside  Kalugin.  "  It  is 
simply  ludicrous,  and  I  know  all  the  details  of  the 
affair." 

And  he  began  to  relate  —  in  a  merry,  and 
skilful  manner  —  a  love  story,  which  we  will  omit, 


6o  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 

because  it  possesses  no  interest  for  us.  But  it  is 
worthy  of  note  that  not  only  Prince  Galtsin,  but 
all  the  gentlemen  who  had  placed  themselves 
here,  one  on  the  window-sill,  another  with  his  legs 
coiled  up  under  him,  a  third  at  the  piano,  seemed 
totally  different  persons  from  what  they  were 
when  on  the  boulevard  ;  there  was  nothing  of  that 
absurd  arrogance  and  haughtiness  which  they  and 
their  kind  exhibit  in  public  to  the  infantry  offi- 
cers ;  here  they  were  among  their  own  set  and 
natural,  especially  Kalugin  and  Prince  Galtsin, 
and  were,  like  very  good,  amiable,  and  rherry  chil- 
dren. The  conversation  turned  on  their  compan- 
-^ons  in  the  service  in  Petersburg,  and  on  their 
acquaintances. 

"  What  of  Maslovsky  }  " 

*'  Which  }  the  uhlan  of  the  body-guard  or  of 
the  horse-guard  .? " 

"  I  know  both  of  them.  The  one  in  the  horse- 
guards  was  with  me  when  he  was  a  little  boy,  and 
had  only  just  left  school.  What  is  the  elder  one? 
a  captain  of  cavalry  t  " 

*'  Oh,  yes  !  long  ago." 

"  And  is  he  still  going  about  with  his  gypsy 
maid  ? " 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  gj 

"No,  he  has  deserted  her  ..."  and  so  forth, 
and  so  forth,  in  the  same  strain. 

Then  Prince  Galtsin  seated  himself  at  the 
piano,  and  sang  a  gypsy  song  in  magnificent  style. 
Praskukhin  began  to  sing  second,  although  no 
one  had  asked  him,  and  he  did  it  so  well  that  they 
requested  him  to  accompany  the  prince  again, 
which  he  gladly  consented  to  do. 

The  servant  came  in  with  the  tea,  cream,  and 
cracknels  on  a  silver  salver. 

"  Serve  the  prince,"  said  Kalugin. 

"Really,  it  is  strange  to  think,"  said  Galtsin, 
taking  a  glass,  and  walking  to  the  window,  "  that 
we  are  in  a  beleaguered  city ;  tea  with  cream,  and 
such  quarters  as  I  should  be  only  too  happy  to 
get  in  Petersburg." 

"  Yes,  if  it  were  not  for  that,"  said  the  old 
lieutenant-colonel,  who  was  dissatisfied  with 
everything,  "  this  constant  waiting  for  some- 
thing would  be  simply  unendurable  .  .  .  and  to 
see  how  men  are  killed,  killed  every  day,  —  and 
there  is  no  end  to  it,  and  under  such  circum- 
stances it  would  not  be  comfortable  to  live  in 
the  mud." 

"  And  how  about  our  infantry  officers } "   said 


62  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

Kalugin.  "  They  live  in  the  bastions  with  the 
soldiers  in  the  casemates  and  eat  beet  soup  with 
the  soldiers  —  how  about  them  ?  " 

^'  How  about  them  ?  They  don't  change  their 
linen  for  ten  days  at  a  time,  and  they  are  heroes 
—  wonderful  men." 

At  this  moment  an  officer  of  infantry  entered 
the  room. 

**  I  .  .  .  I  was  ordered  .  .  .  may  I  present  my- 
self to  the  gen  ...  to  His  Excellency  from  Gen- 
eral N.  } "  he  inquired,  bowing  with  an  air  of 
embarrassment. 

Kalugin  rose,  but,  without  returning  the  offi- 
cer's salute,  he  asked  him,  with  insulting  courtesy 
and  strained  official  smile,  whether  they'^  would 
not  wait  awhile  ;  and,  without  inviting  him  to  be 
seated  or  paying  any  further  attention  to  him,  he 
turned  to  Prince  Galtsin  and  began  to  speak  to 
him  in  French,  so  that  the  unhappy  officer,  who 
remained  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
absolutely  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  him- 
self. 

''  It  is  on  very  important  business,  sir,"  said  the 
officer,  after  a  momentary  pause. 

*  A  polite  way  of  referring  to  the  general  in  the  plural. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  5^ 

"  Ah  !  very  well,  then,"  said  Kalugin,  putting 
on  his  cloak,  and  accompanying  him  to  the  door. 

"  Eh  bieUy  messieurs^  I  think  there  will  be  hot 
work  to-night,"  said  Kalugin  in  French,  on  his 
return  from  the  general's. 

"  Hey  .?  What .?  A  sortie  t  "  They  all  began 
to  question  him. 

"I  don't  know  yet  —  you  will  see  for  your- 
selves," replied  Kalugin,  with  a  mysterious  smile. 

"And  my  commander  is  on  the  bastion  —  of 
course,  I  shall  have  to  go,"  said  Praskukhin,  buck- 
ling on  his  sword. 

But  no  one  answered  him  :  he  must  know  for 
himself  whether  he  had  to  go  or  not. 

Praskukhin  and  Neferdoff  went  off,  in  order  to 
betake  themselves  to  their  posts.  *'  Farewell, 
gentlemen  !  "  "  Au  revoir,  gentlemen  !  We  shall 
meet  again  to-night  !  "  shouted  Kalugin  from  the 
window  when  Praskukhin  and  Neferdoff  trotted 
down  the  street,  bending  over  the  bows  of  their 
Cossack  saddles.  The  trampling  of  their  Cossack 
horses  soon  died  away  in  the  dusky  street. 

"  No,  tell  me,  is  something  really  going  to  take 
place  to-night } "  said  Galtsin,  in  French,  as  he 
leaned  with  Kalugin  on  the  window-sill,  and  gazed 


64  •        SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 

at     the     bombs    which    were    flying    over    the 
bastions. 

"  I  can  tell  you,  yon  see  .  .  .  you  have  been  on 
the  bastions,  of  course  ?  "  (Galtsin  made  a  sign 
of  assent,  although  he  had  been  only  once  to  the 
fourth  bastion.)  "  Well,  there  was  a  trench  oppo- 
site our  lunette,"  and  Kalugin,  who  was  not  a 
speciaKst,  although  he  considered  his  judgment 
on  military  affairs  particularly  accurate,  began  to 
explain  the  position  of  our  troops  and  of  the 
enemy's  works  and  the  plan  of  the  proposed  affair, 
mixing  up  the  technical  terms  of  fortifications  a 
good  deal  in  the  process. 

"  But  they  are  beginning  to  hammer  away  at 
our  casemates.  Oho !  was  that  ours  or  his  ?  there, 
it  has  burst,"  they  said,  as  they  leaned  on  the 
window-sill,  gazing  at  the  fiery  line  of  the  bomb, 
which  exploded  in  the  air,  at  the  lightning  of  the 
discharges,  at  the  dark  blue  sky,  momentarily 
illuminated,  and  at  the  white  smoke  of  the  powder, 
and  listened  to  the  sounds  of  the  firing,  which 
grew  louder  and  louder. 

"  What  a  charming  sight  1  is  it  not } "  said 
Kalugin,  in  French,  directing  the  attention  of  his 
guest  to  the  really  beautiful  spectacle.     **  Do  you 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  65 

know,  you  cannot  distinguish  the  stars  from  the 
bombs  at  times." 

"  Yes,  I  was  just  thinking  that  that  was  a  star; 
but  it  darted  down  .  .  .  there,  it  has  burst  now. 
And  that  big  star  yonder,  what  is  it  called  ?  It 
is  just  exactly  like  a  bomb." 

**  Do  you  know,  I  have  grown  so  used  to  these 
bombs  that  I  am  convinced  that  a  starlight  night 
in  Russia  will  always  seem  to  me  to  be  all  bombs ; 
one  gets  so  accustomed  to  them." 

"  But  am  not  I  to  go  on  this  sortie  }  "  inquired 
Galtsin,  after  a  momentary  silence. 

"  Enough  of  that,  brother !  Don't  think  of 
such  a  thing  !  I  won't  let  you  go  !  "  replied  Ka- 
lugin.     "  Your  turn  will  come,  brother  !  " 

**  Seriously  t  So  you  think  that  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  go  t     Hey.!*  ..." 

At  that  moment,  a  frightful  crash  of  rifles  was 
heard  in  the  direction  in  which  these  gentlemen 
were  looking,  above  the  roar  of  the  cannon,  and 
thousands  of  small  fires,  flaring  up  incessantly, 
without  intermission,  flashed  along  the  entire  line. 

"  That's  it,  when  the  real  work  has  begun  ! " 
said  Kalugin.  —  *'  That  is  the  sound  of  the  rifles, 
and  I  cannot  hear  it  in  cold  blood ;  it  takes  a  sort 


66  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

of  hold  on  your  soul,  you  know.  And  there  is 
the  hurrah  ! "  he  added,  listening  to  the  prolonged 
and  distant  roar  of  hundreds  of  voices,  "  A-a-aa!" 
which  reached  him  from  the  bastion. 
*'  What  is  this  hurrah,  theirs  or  ours  ?" 
*'I  don't  know;  but  it  has  come  to  a  hand-to- 
hand  fight,  for  the  firing  has  ceased." 

At  that  moment,  an  officer  followed  by  his  Cos- 
sack galloped  up  to  the  porch,  and  slipped  down 
from  his  horse. 
"  Where  from  .?  " 

"  From  the  bastion.  The  general  is  wanted." 
"  Let  us  go.  Well,  now,  what  is  it }  " 
"They  have  attacked  the  lodgements  .  .  .  have 
taken  them  .  .  .  the  French  have  brought  up 
their  heavy  reserves  .  .  .  they  have  attacked  our 
forces  .  .  .  there  were  only  two  battalions,"  said 
the  panting  officer,  who  was  the  same  that  had 
come  in  the  evening,  drawing  his  breath  with 
difficulty,  but  stepping  to  the  door  with  perfect 
unconcern. 

"Well,   have    they    retreated.?"    inquired    Gait- 
sin. 

"No,"    answered    the     officer,    angrily.     "The 
battalion  came  up  and  beat  them  back  ;  but  the 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


67 


commander  of  the  regiment  is  killed,  and  many 
officers,  and  I  have  been  ordered  to  ask  for  re- 
enforcements.  .  .  ." 

And  with  these  words  he  and  Kalugin  went  off 
to  the  general,  whither  we  will  not  follow  them. 

Five  minutes  later,  Kalugin  was  mounted  on 
the  Cossack's  horse  (and  with  that  peculiar,  quasi- 
Cossack  seat,  in  which,  as  I  have  observed,  all 
adjutants  find  something  especially  captivating, 
for  some  reason  or  other),  and  rode  at  a  trot  to 
the  bastion,  in  order  to  give  some  orders,  and  to 
await  the  news  of  the  final  result  of  the  affair. 
And  Prince  Galtsin,  under  the  influence  of  that 
oppressive  emotion  which  the  signs  of  a  battle 
near  at  hand  usually  produce  on  a  spectator  who 
takes  no  part  in  it,  went  out  into  the  street,  and 
began  to  pace  up  and  down  there  without  any 
object. 


68  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


VI. 

The  soldiers  were  bearing  the  wounded  on 
stretchers,  and  supporting  them  by  their  arms. 
It  was  completely  dark  in  the  streets  ;  now  and 
then,  a  rare  light  flashed  in  the  hospital  or  from 
the  spot  where  the  officers  were  seated.  The 
same  thunder  of  cannon  and  exchange  of  rifle- 
shots was  borne  from  the  bastions,  and  the  same 
fires  flashed  against  the  dark  heavens.  Now  and 
then,  you  could  hear  the  trampling  hoofs  of  an 
orderly's  horse,  the  groan  of  a  wounded  man,  the 
footsteps  and  voices  of  the  stretcher-bearers,  or 
the  conversation  of  some  of  the  frightened  female 
inhabitants,  who  had  come  out  on  their  porches 
to  view  the  cannonade. 

Among  the  latter  were  our  acquaintances 
Nikita,  the  old  sailor's  widow,  with  whom  he 
had  already  made  his  peace,  and  her  ten-year-old 
daughter.  "Lord,  Most  Holy  Mother  of  God!" 
whispered  the  old  woman  to  herself  with  a  sigh, 
as   she  watched  the  bombs,  which,  like  balls  of 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY.  69 

fire,  sailed  incessantly  from  one  side  to  the  other. 
"  What  a  shame,  what  a  shame  !  I-i-hi-hi !  It 
was  not  so  in  the  first  bombardment.  See,  there 
it  has  burst,  the  cursed  thing!  right  above  our 
house  in  the  suburbs.'* 

"  No,  it  is  farther  off,  in  aunt  Arinka's  garden, 
that  they  all  fall,"  said  the  little  girl. 

"  And  where,  where  is  my  master  now ! "  said 
Nikita,  with  a  drawl,  for  he  was  still  rather  drunk. 
•*  Oh,  how  I  love  that  master  of  mine  !  —  I  don't 
know  myself !  —  I  love  him  so  that  if,  which  God 
forbid,  they  should  kill  him  in  this  sinful  fight, 
then,  if  you  will  believe  it,  aunty,  I  don't  know 
myself  what  I  might  do  to  myself  in  that  case  — 
by  Heavens,  I  don't!  He  is  such  a  master  that 
words  will  not  do  him  justice !  Would  I  ex- 
change him  for  one  of  those  who  play  cards } 
That  is  simply  —  whew !  that's  all  there  is  to 
say  ! "  concluded  Nikita,  pointing  at  the  lighted 
window  of  his  master's  room,  in  which,  as  the 
staff-captain  was  absent,  Yunker  Zhvadchevsky 
had  invited  his  friends  to  a  carouse,  on  the  occa- 
sion of  his  receiving  the  cross  :  Sub-Lieutenant 
Ugrovitch  and  Sub-Lieutenant  Nepshisetsky,  who 
was  ill  with  a  cold  in  the  head. 


70 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY, 


"  Those  little  stars  !  They  dart  through  the 
sky  like  stars,  like  stars ! "  said  the  little  girl, 
breaking  the  silence  which  succeeded  Nikita's 
words.  "  There,  there !  another  has  dropped ! 
Why  do  they  do  it,  mamma  ? " 

"  They  will  ruin  our  little  cabin  entirely,"  said 
the  old  woman,  sighing,  and  not  replying  to  her 
little  daughter's  question. 

"And  when  uncle  and  I  went  there  to-day, 
mamma,"  continued  the  little  girl,  in  a  shrill 
voice,  "  there  was  such  a  big  cannon-ball  lying 
in  the  room,  near  the  cupboard  ;  it  had  broken 
through  the  wall  and  into  the  room  .  .  .  and  it  is 
so  big  that  you  couldn't  lift  it.'* 

"Those  who  had  husbands  and  money  have 
gone  away,"  said  the  old  woman,  "  and  now  they 
have  ruined  my  last  little  house.  See,  see  how 
thqy  are  firing,  the  wretches.     Lord,  Lord  !  " 

"  And  as  soon  as  we  came  out,  a  bomb  flew  at 
us,  and  burst  and  scattered  the  earth  about,  and 
a  piece  of  the  shell  came  near  striking  uncle  and 
me." 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


n 


VII. 

Prince  Galtsin  met  more  and  more  wounded 
men,  in  stretchers  and  on  foot,  supporting  each 
other,  and  talking  loudly. 

"  When  they  rushed  up,  brothers,"  said  one  tall 
soldier,  who  had  two  guns  on  his  shoulder,  in  a 
bass  voice,  "  when  they  rushed  up  and  shouted, 
*  Allah,  Allah ! '  *  they  pressed  each  other  on.  You 
kill  one,  and  another  takes  his  place  —  you  can  do 
nothing.  You  never  saw  such  numbers  as  there 
were  of  them.  .  .  ." 

But  at  this  point  in  his  story  Galtsin  inter- 
rupted him. 

"  You  come  from  the  bastion  }  '* 

"  Just  so.  Your  Honor  !  " 

"  Well,  what  has  been  going  on  there  ?  Tell 
me. 

"  Why,  what  has  been  going  on  t  They  at- 
tacked in  force.  Your  Honor;  they  climbed  over 

*  The  Russian  soldiers,  who  had  been  fighting  the  Turks,  were 
so  accustomed  to  this  cry  of  the  enemy  that  they  always  declared 
that  the  French  also  cried  "Allah." — Author's  Note. 


72 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY, 


the  wall,  and  that's  the  end  of  it.  They  con- 
quered completely,  Your  Honor." 

"  How  conquered  }    You  repulsed  them,  surely } " 

"  How  could  we  repulse  them,  when  he  came 
up  with  his  whole  force  ?  They  killed  all  our 
men,  and  there  was  no  help  given  us." 

The  soldier  was  mistaken,  for  the  trenches 
were  behind  our  forces ;  but  this  is  a  peculiar 
thing,  which  any  one  may  observe  :  a  soldier 
who  has  been  wounded  in  an  engagement  always 
thinks  that  the  day  has  been  lost,  and  that  the 
encounter  has  been  a  frightfully  bloody  one. 

*'  Then,  what  did  they  mean  by  telling  me  that 
you  had  repulsed  them?"  said  Galtsin,  with  irrita- 
tion. "Perhaps  the  enemy  was  repulsed  after 
you  left  ?     Is  it  long  since  you  came  away  ?  " 

"I  have  this  instant  come  from  there.  Your 
Honor,"  repHed  the  soldier.  "  It  is  hardly  possi- 
ble. The  trenches  remained  in  his  hands  ...  he 
won  a  complete  victory." 

**  Well,  and  are  you  not  ashamed  to  have  sur- 
rendered the  trenches  ?  This  is  horrible  !  "  said 
Galtsin,  angered  by  such  indifference. 

"  What,  when  he  was  there  in  force  ? "  growled 
the  soldier. 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY.  73 

"  And,  Your  Honor,"  said  a  soldier  on  a 
stretcher,  who  had  just  come  up  with  them,  "how 
could  we  help  surrendering,  when  nearly  all  of  us 
had  been  killed?  If  we  had  been  in  force,  we 
would  only  have  surrendered  with  our  lives.  But 
what  was  there  to  do  ?  I  ran  one  man  through, 
and  then  I  was  struck  .  .  .  O-oh !  softly,  broth- 
ers !  steady,  brothers !  go  more  steadily !  .  .  . 
O-oh  ! "  groaned  the  wounded  man. 

**  There  really  seem  to  be  a  great  many  extra 
men  coming  this  way,"  said  Galtsin,  again  stop- 
ping the  tall  soldier  with  the  two  rifles.  "  Why 
are  you  walking  off }     Hey  there,  halt !  " 

The  soldier  halted,  and  removed  his  cap  with 
his  left  hand. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  and  why  }  "  he  shouted 
at  him  sternly.     "He  .  .  ." 

But,  approaching  the  soldier  very  closely  at  that 
moment,  he  perceived  that  the  latter's  right  arm 
was  bandaged,  and  covered  with  blood  far  above 
the  elbow. 

"I  am  wounded.  Your  Honor!" 

"  Wounded  }  how  t  " 

**  It  must  have  been  a  bullet,  here ! "  said  the 
soldier,  pointing  at  his  arm,  "  but   I  cannot  tell 


74  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

yet.  My  head  has  been  broken  by  something," 
and,  bending  over,  he  showed  the  hair  upon  the 
back  of  it  all  clotted  together  with  blood. 

"  And  whose  gun  is  that  second  one  you 
have?"    . 

"A  choice  French  one,  Your  Honor!  I  cap- 
tured it.  And  I  should  not  have  come  away  if  it 
had  not  been  to  accompany  this  soldier ;  he  might 
fall  down,"  he  added,  pointing  at  the  soldier,  who 
was  walking  a  little  in  front,  leaning  upon  his  gun, 
and  dragging  his  left  foot  heavily  after  him. 

Prince  Galtsin  all  at  once  became  frightfully 
ashamed  of  his  unjust  suspicions.  He  felt  that 
he  was  growing  crimson,  and  turned  away,  with- 
out questioning  the  wounded  men  further,  and, 
without  looking  after  them,  he  went  to  the  place 
where  the  injured  men  were  being  cared  for. 

Having  forced  his  way  with  difficulty  to  the 
porch,  through  the  wounded  men  who  had  come 
on  foot,  and  the  stretcher-bearers,  who  were  en- 
tering with  the  wounded  and  emerging  with  the 
dead,  Galtsin  entered  the  first  room,  glanced 
round,  and  involuntarily  turned  back,  and  imme- 
diately ran  into  the  street.     It  was  too  terrible. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


7S 


VIII. 

The  vast,  dark,  lofty  hall,  lighted  only  by  the 
four  or  five  candles,  which  the  doctors  were 
carrying  about  to  inspect  the  wounded,  was  lit- 
erally full.  The  stretcher-bearers  brought  in  the 
wounded,  ranged  them  one  beside  another  on 
the  floor,  which  was  already  so  crowded  that 
the  unfortunate  wretches  hustled  each  other 
and  sprinkled  each  other  with  their  blood,  and 
then  went  forth  for  more.  The  pools  of  blood 
which  were  visible  on  the  unoccupied  places, 
the  hot  breaths  of  several  hundred  men,  and 
the  steam  which  rose  from  those  who  were  toil- 
ing with  the  stretchers  produced  a  peculiar,  thick, 
heavy,  offensive  atmosphere,  in  which  the  candles 
burned  dimly  in  the  different  parts  of  the  room. 
The  dull  murmur  of  diverse  groans,  sighs,  death- 
rattles,  broken  now  and  again  by  a  shriek,  was 
borne  throughout  the  apartment.  Sisters  of 
charity,  with  tranquil  faces,  and  with  an  expres- 


76  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 

sion  not  of  empty,  feminine,  tearfully  sickly  com- 
passion, but  of  active,  practical  sympathy,  flitted 
hither  and  thither  among  the  blood-stained  cloaks 
and  shirts,  stepping  over  the  wounded,  with  medi- 
cine, water,  bandages,  lint. 

Doctors,  with  their  sleeves  rolled  up,  knelt 
beside  the  wounded,  beside  whom  the  assistant 
surgeons  held  the  candles,  inspecting,  feeling, 
and  probing  the  wounds,  in  spite  of  the  terrible 
groans  and  entreaties  of  the  sufferers.  One  of 
the  doctors  was  seated  at  a  small  table  by  the 
door,  and,  at  the  moment  when  Galtsin  entered 
the  room,  he  was  just  writing  down  '*  No.  532." 

"Ivan  Bogaeff,  common  soldier,  third  company 

of  the  S regiment,  fractura  femoris   compli- 

caiaT'  called  another  from  the  extremity  of  the 
hall,  as  he  felt  of  the  crushed  leg.  ..."  Turn 
him  over." 

"  0-oi,  my  fathers,  good  fathers !  "  shrieked  the 
soldier,  beseeching  them  not  to  touch  him. 

"  Pei'foratio  capitis.^' 

"  Semyon    Neferdoff,   lieutenant-colonel   of   the 

N regiment  of  infantry.    Have  a  little  patience, 

colonel  :  you  can  only  be  attended  to  this  way ; 
I  will  let  you  alone,"  said  a  third,  picking  away 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  jj 

at  the  head  of  the  unfortunate  colonel,  with 
some  sort   of   a  hook. 

"  Ai !  stop  !  Oi !  for  God's  sake,  quick,  quick, 
for  the  sake  a-a-a-a !  .  .  ." 

"  Pei'foratio  pectoris  .  .  .  Sevastyan  Sereda,  com- 
mon soldier  .  .  .  of  what  regiment  ?  however,  you 
need  not  write  that  :  moriUir.  Carry  him  away," 
said  the  doctor,  abandoning  the  soldier,  who  was 
rolling  his  eyes,  and  already  emitting  the  death- 
rattle. 

Forty  stretcher-bearers  stood  at  the  door, 
awaiting  the  task  of  transporting  to  the  hospital 
the  men  who  had  been  attended  to,  and  the 
dead  to  the  chapel,  and  gazed  at  this  picture 
in  silence,  only  uttering  a  heavy  sigh  from  time 
to  time.  .  .  . 


78  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


IX. 

On  his  way  to  the  bastion,  Kalugin  met  nu- 
merous wounded  men  ;  but,  knowing  from  expe- 
rience that  such  a  spectacle  has  a  bad  effect 
on  the  spirits  of  a  man  on  the  verge  of  an 
action,  he  not  only  did  not  pause  to  interro- 
gate them,  but,  on  the  contrary,  he  tried  not 
to  pay  any  heed  to  them.  At  the  foot  of  the 
hill  he  encountered  an  orderly,  who  was  gal- 
loping   from    the   bastion    at    full    speed. 

**  Zobkin  !    Zobkin  !     Stop  a  minute  ! " 

"  Well,  what  is  it  1 " 

"  Where  are  you  from  }  '* 

"  From  the  lodgements." 

"  Well,  how  are  things  there  !     Hot  }  '* 

**Ah,  frightfully!" 

And  the  orderly  galloped  on. 

In  fact,  although  there  was  not  much  firing 
from  the  rifles,  the  cannonade  had  begun  with 
fresh   vigor   and    greater   heat    than    ever. 

"  Ah,    that's   bad ! "    thought    Kalugin,   experi- 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 


79 


encing  a  rather  unpleasant  sensation,  and  there 
came  to  him  also  a  presentiment,  that  is  to  say, 
a  very  usual  thought  —  the  thought  of  death. 

But  Kalugin  was  an  egotist  and  gifted  with 
nerves  of  steel ;  in  a  word,  he  was  what  is  called 
brave.  He  did  not  yield  to  his  first  sensation, 
and  began  to  arouse  his  courage  ;  he  recalled 
to  mind  a  certain  adjutant  of  Napoleon,  who, 
after  having  given  the  command  to  advance, 
galloped  up  to  Napoleon,  his  head  all  covered 
with  blood. 

"You  are  wounded.-*"  said  Napoleon  to  him. 
"I  beg  your  pardon.  Sire,  I  am  dead,"  —  and 
the  adjutant  fell  from  his  horse,  and  died  on 
the    spot. 

This  seemed  verv  fine  to  him,  and  he  fancied 
that  he  somewhat  resembled  this  adjutant ;  then 
he  gave  his  horse  a  blow  with  the  whip;  and  as- 
sumed still  more  of  that  knowing^  Cossack  bear- 
ing, glanced  at  his  orderly,  who  was  galloping 
behind  him,  standing  upright  in  his  stirrups, 
and  thus  in  dashing  style  he  reached  the  place 
where  it  was  necessary  to  dismount.  Here  he 
found  four  soldiers,  who  were  smoking  their  pipes 
as  they  sat  on  the  stones. 


So  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY, 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ? "  he  shouted  at 
them. 

"  We  have  been  carrying  a  wounded  man  from 
the  field,  Your  Honor,  and  have  sat  down  to 
rest,"  one  of  them  replied,  concealing  his  pipe 
behind  his  back,   and  pulling  off  his  cap. 

*'  Resting  indeed  !     March  off  to  your  posts  !  " 

And,  in  company  with  them,  he  walked  up 
the  hill  through  the  trenches,  encountering 
wounded   men   at  every  step. 

On  attaining  the  crest  of  the  hill,  he  turned  to 
the  left,  and,  after  taking  a  few  steps,  found  him- 
self quil;e  alone.  Splinters  whizzed  near  him,  and 
struck  in  the  trenches.  Another  bomb  rose  in 
front  of  him,  and  seemed  to  'be  flying  straight  at 
him.  All  of  a  sudden  he  felt  terrified  ;  he  ran 
off  five  paces  at  full  speed,  and  lay  down  on  the 
ground.'  But  when  the  bomb  burst,  and  at  a 
distance  from. him,  he  grew  dreadfully  vexed  at 
himself,  and  glanced  about  as  he  rose,  to  see 
whether  any  one  had  perceived  him  fall,  but 
there  was  no  one  about. 

When  fear  has  once  made  its  way  into  the 
mind,  it  does  not  speedily  give  way  to  another 
feeling.       He,    who    had    boasted    that    he  would 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  gj 

never  bend,  hastened  along  the  trench  with 
accelerated  speed,  and  almost  on  his  hands  and 
knees.  "Ah!  this  is  very  bad!"  he  thought, 
as  he  stumbled.  "  I  shall  certainly  be  killed  ! " 
And,  conscious  of  how  difficult  it  was  for  him 
to  breathe,  and  that  the  perspiration  was  break- 
ing out  all  over  his  body,  he  was  amazed  at 
himself,  but  he  no  longer  strove  to  conquer 
his  feelings. 

All  at  once  steps  became  audible  in  advance 
of  him.  He  quickly  straightened  himself  up, 
raised  his  head,  and,  boldly  clanking  his  sword, 
began  to  proceed  at  a  slower  pace  than  before. 
He  did  not  know  himself.  When  he  joined  the 
officer  of  sappers  and  the  sailor  who  were  com- 
ing to  meet  him,  and  the  former  called  to  him, 
"Lie  down,"  pointing  to  the  bright  speck  of 
a  bomb,  which,  growing  ever  brighter  and 
brighter,  swifter  and  swifter,  as  it  approached, 
crashed  down  in  the  vicinity  of  the  trench,  he 
only  bent  his  head  a  very  little,  involuntarily, 
under  the  influence  of  the  terrified  shout,  and 
went  his  way. 

"  Whew  !  what  a  brave  man  !  "  ejaculated  the 
sailor,    who    had   calmly   watched   the   exploding 


S2  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

bomb,  and,  with  practised  glance,  at  once  cal- 
culated that  its  splinters  could  not  strike  in- 
side the  trench ;  "  he  did  not  even  wish  to  lie 
down." 

Only  a  few  steps  remained  to  be  taken,  across 
an  open  space,  before  Kalugin  would  reach  the 
casemate  of  the  commander  of  the  bastion,  when 
he  was  again  attacked  by  dimness  of  vision  and 
that  stupid  sensation  of  fear ;  his  heart  began 
to  beat  more  violently,  the  blood  rushed  to 
his  head,  and  he  was  obliged  to  exert  an  effort 
over  himself  in  order  to  reach  the  casemate. 

"Why  are  you  so  out  of  breath  V  inquired  the 
general,  when  Kalugin  had  communicated  to  him 
his  orders. 

"I  have  been  walking  very  fast,  Your  Excel- 
lency !  " 

"  Will  you  not  take  a  glass   of  wine  t " 

Kalugin  drank  the  wine,  and  lighted  a  cigar- 
ette. The  engagement  had  already  come  to  an 
end  ;  only  the  heavy  cannonade  continued,  going 
on  from  both  sides. 

In  the  casemate  sat  General  N.,  the  commander 
of  the  bastion,  and  six  other  officers,  among  whom 
was  Praskukhin,  discussing  various  details  of  the 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY.  83 

conflict.  Seated  in  this  comfortable  apartment, 
with  blue  hangings,  with  a  sofa,  a  bed,  a  table, 
covered  with  papers,  a  wall  clock,  and  the  holy 
pictures,  before  which  burned  a  lamp,  and  gazing 
upon  these  signs  of  habitation,  and  at  the  arshin- 
thick  (twenty-eight  inches)  beams  which  formed 
the  ceiling,  and  listening  to  the  shots,  which  were 
deadened  by  the  casemate,  Kalugin  positively 
could  not  understand  how  he  had  twice  permitted 
himself  to  be  overcome  with  such  unpardonable 
weakness.  He  was  angry  with  himself,  and  he 
longed  for  danger,  in  order  that  he  might  sub- 
ject himself  to  another  trial. 
,  "I  am  glad  that  you  are  here,  captain," 
he  said  to  a  naval  officer,  in  the  cloak  of  staff- 
officer,  with  a  large  moustache  and  the  cross 
of  St.  George,  who  entered  the  casemate  at 
that  moment,  and  asked  the  general  to  give 
him  some  men,  that  he  might  repair  the  two 
embrasures  on  his  battery,  which  had  been 
demolished.  "  The  general  ordered  me  to  in- 
quire," continued  Kalugin,  when  the  commander 
of  the  battery  ceased  to  address  the  general, 
"whether  your  guns  can  fire  grape-shot  into 
the   trenches." 


84  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

"  Only  one  of  my  guns  will  do  that,"  replied  the 
captain,  gruffly. 

"  Let  us  go  and  see,  all  the  same." 

The  captain  frowned,  and  grunted  angrily:  — 

"  I  have  already  passed  the  whole  night  there, 
and  I  came  here  to  try  and  get  a  little  rest,"  said 
he.  "  Cannot  you  go  alone  ?  My  assistant. 
Lieutenant  Kartz,  is  there,  and  he  will  show  you 
everything." 

The  captain  had  now  been  for  six  months  in 
command  of  this,  one  of  the  most  dangerous  of  the 
batteries  —  and  even  when  there  were  no  case- 
mates he  had  lived,  without  relief,  in  the  bastion 
and  among  the  sailors,  from  the  beginning  of  the 
siege,  and  he  bore  a  reputation  among  them  for 
bravery.  Therefore  his  refusal  particularly  struck 
and  amazed  Kalugin.  "  That's  what  reputation 
is  worth  !  "  he  thought. 

"  Well,  then,  I  will  go  alone,  if  you  will  permit 
it,"  he  said,  in  a  somewhat  bantering  tone  to  the 
captain,  who,  however,  paid  not  the  slightest  heed 
to  his  words. 

But  Kalugin  did  not  reflect  that  he  had  passed, 
in  all,  at  different  times,  perhaps  fifty  hours  on  the 
bastion,  while  the  captain  had  lived  there  for  six 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


85 


months.  Kalugin  was  actuated,  moreover,  by 
vanity,  by  a  desire  to  shine,  by  the  hope  of 
reward,  of  reputation,  and  by  the  charm  of  risk ; 
but  the  captain  had  ah'eady  gone  through  all  that : 
he  had  been  vain  at  first,  he  had  displayed  valor,  he 
had  risked  his  life,  he  had  hoped  for  fame  and  guer- 
don, and  had  even  obtained  them,  but  these  actuat- 
ing motives  had  already  lost  their  power  over  him, 
and  he  regarded  the  matter  in  another  light ;  he 
fulfilled  his  duty  with  punctuality,  but  under- 
standing quite  well  how  small  were  the  chances  for 
his  life  which  were  left  him,  after  a  six-months  resi- 
dence in  the  bastion,  he  no  longer  risked  these 
casualties,  except  in  case  of  stern  necessity,  so  that 
the  young  lieutenant,  who  had  entered  the  battery 
only  a  week  previous,  and  who  was  now  showing 
it  to  Kalugin,  in  company  with  whom  he  took 
turns  in  leaning  out  of  the  embrasure,  or  climb- 
ing out  on  the  ramparts,  seemed  ten  times  as 
brave  as  the  captain. 

After  inspecting  the  battery,  Kalugin  returned 
to  the  casemate,  and  ran  against  the  general  in 
the  dark,  as  the  latter  was  ascending  to  the 
watch-tower  with  his  staff-officers. 

"  Captain     Praskukhin  !  "     said     the     general, 


S6  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 

*'  please  to  go  to  the  first  lodgement  and  say  to  the 

second  battery  of  the  M regiment,  which  is 

at  work  there,  that  they  are  to  abandon  their 
work,  to  evacuate  the  place  without  making  any 
noise,  and  to  join  their  regiment,  which  is  stand- 
ing at  the  foot  of  the  hill  in  reserve.  .  .  .  Do 
you  understand  ?  Lead  them  to  their  regiment 
yourself." 

"Yes,  sir." 

And  Praskukhin  set  out  for  the  lodgement  on  a 
run. 

The  firing  was  growing  more  infrequent. 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY.  8/ 


X. 


"Is    this   the  second  battalion    of   the    M- 


regiment  ? "  asked  Praskiikhin,  hastening  up  to 
the  spot,  and  running  against  the  soldiers  who 
were  carrying  earth  in  sacks. 

"  Exactly  so." 

"Where  is  the  commander  .^  " 

Mikhailoff,  supposing  that  the  inquiry  was  for 
the  commander  of  the  corps,  crawled  out  of  his 
pit,  and,  taking  Praskukhin  for  the  colonel,  he 
stepped  up*  to  him  with  his  hand  at  his  visor. 

"The  general  has  given  orders  .  .  .  that  you 
.  .  .  are  to  be  so  good  as  to  go  .  .  .  as  quickly  as 
possible  .  .  .  and,  in  particular,  as  quietly  as 
possible,  to  the  rear  .  .  .  not  to  the  rear  exactly, 
but  to  the  reserve,"  said  Praskukhin,  glancing 
askance  at  the  enemy's  fires. 

On  recognizing  Praskukhin  and  discovering  the 
state  of  things,  Mikhailoff  dropped  his  hand,  gave 
his  orders,  and  the  battalion  started  into  motion, 


88  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 

gathered  up  their  guns,  put  on  their  cloaks,  and 
set  out. 

No  one  who  has  not  experienced  it  can  imagine 
the  dehght  which  a  man  feels  when  he  takes  his 
departure,  after  a  three-hours  bombardment,  from 
such  a  dangerous  post  as  the  lodgements.  Several 
times  in  the  course  of  those  three  hours,  Mi- 
khailoff  had,  not  without  reason,  considered  his 
end  as  inevitable,  and  had  grown  accustomed  to 
the  conviction  that  he  should  infallibly  be  killed, 
and  that  he  no  longer  belonged  to  this  world.  In 
spite  of  this,  however,  he  had  great  difficulty  in 
keeping  his  feet  from  running  away  with  him 
when  he  issued  from  the  lodgements  at  the  head  of 
his  corps,  in  company  with  Praskukhin. 

"  Au  revoir,"  said  the  major,  the  commander  of 
another  battalion,  who  was  to  remain  in  the 
lodgements,  and  with  whom  he  had  shared  his 
cheese,  as  they  sat  in  the  pit  behind  the  breast- 
works—  "a  pleasant  journey  to  you." 

"  Thanks,  I  hope  you  will  have  good  luck  after 
we  have  gone.    The  firing  seems  to  be  holding  up." 

But  no  sooner  had  he  said  this  than  the  enemy, 
who  must  have  observed  the  movement  in  the 
lodgements,  began  to  fire  faster  and  faster.     Our 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY.  89 

guns  began  to  reply  to  him,  and  again  a  heavy 
cannonade  began.  The  stars  were  gleaming 
high,  but  not  brilliantly  in  the  sky.  The  night 
was  dark — you  could  hardly  see  your  hand  before 
you  ;  only  the  flashes  of  the  discharges  and  the 
explosions  of  the  bombs  illuminated  objects  for  a 
moment.  The  soldiers  marched  on  rapidly,  in 
silence,  involuntarily  treading  close  on  each 
other's  heels ;  all  that  was  audible  through  the 
incessant  firing  was  the  measured  sound  of 
their  footsteps  on  the  dry  road,  the  noise  of  their 
bayonets  as  they  came  in  contact,  or  the  sigh  and 
prayer  of  some  young  soldier,  "  Lord,  Lord  ! 
what  is  this  !  "  Now  and  then  the  groan  of  a 
wounded  man  arose,  and  the  shout,  "  Stretcher  !  " 
(In  the  company  commanded  by  Mikhai'loff, 
twenty-six  men  were  killed  in  one  night,  by  the 
fire  of  the  artillery  alone.)  The  lightning  flashed 
against  the  distant  horizon,  the  sentry  in  the  bas- 
tion shouted,  **  Can-non  !  "  and  the  ball,  shrieking 
over  the  heads  of  the  corps,  tore  up  the  earth, 
and  sent  the  stones  flying. 

"  Deuce  take  it !  how  slowly  they  march," 
thought  Praskukhin,  glancing  back  continually,  as 
he  walked  beside  Mikhailoff.     *'  Really,  it  will  be 


go  SEVASTOPOL  /AT  MAY. 

better  for  me  to  run  on  in  front ;  I  have  already 
given  the  order.  .  .  .  But  no,  it  might  be  said  later 
on  that  I  was  a  coward.  What  will  be  will  be ; 
I  will  march  with  them." 

"  Now,  why  is  he  walking  behind  me.?"  thought 
Mikhailoff,  on  his  side.  "  So  far  as  I  have  observed, 
he  always  brings  ill-luck.  There  it  comes,  flying 
straight  for  us,  apparently." 

After  traversing  several  hundred  paces,  they 
encountered  Kalugin,  who  was  going  to  the 
casemates,  clanking  his  sword  boldly  as  he 
walked,  in  order  to  learn,  by  the  general's  com- 
mand, how  the  work  was  progressing  there.  But 
on  meeting  Mikhailoff,  it  occurred  to  him  that, 
instead  of  going  thither,  under  that  terrible  fire, 
which  he  was  not  ordered  to  do,  he  could  make 
minute  inquiries  of  the  officer  who  had  been  there. 
And,  in  fact,  Mikhailoff  furnished  him  with  a 
detailed  account  of  the  work.  After  walking  a 
short  distance  with  them,  Kalugin  turned  into  the 
trench,  which  led  to  the  casemate. 

"  Well,  what  news  is  there  ?  "  inquired  the  offi- 
cer, who  was  seated  alone  at  the  table,  and  eating 
his  supper. 

"Well,  nothing,  apparently,  except  that  there 
will  not  be  any  further  conflict." 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


91 


"  How  so  ?  On  the  contrary,  the  general  has 
but  just  gone  up  to  the  top  of  the  works.  A 
regiment  has  already  arrived.  Yes,  there  it  is  .  .  . 
do  you  hear }  The  firing  has  begun  again.  Don't 
go.  Why  should  you  } "  added  the  officer,  per- 
ceiving the  movement  made  by  Kalugin. 

"  But  I  must  be  there  without  fail,  in  the 
present  instance,"  thought  Kalugin,  "  but  I  have 
already  subjected  myself  to  a  good  deal  of  danger 
to-day  ;  the  firing  is  terrible." 

"  Well,  after  all,  I  had  better  wait  for  him 
here,"  he  said. 

In  fact,  the  general  returned,  twenty  minutes 
later,  accompanied  by  the  officers,  who  had  been 
with  him  ;  among  their  number  was  the  yunker, 
Baron  Pesth,  but  Praskukhin  was  not  with  them. 
The  lodgements  had  been  captured  and  occupied 
by  our  forces. 

After  receiving  a  full  account  of  the  engage- 
ment, Kalugin  and  Pesth  went  out  of  the  case- 
mates. 


92 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 


XL 

"  There  is  blood  on  your  cloak  ;  have  you  been 
having  a  hand-to-hand  fight  ? "  Kalugin  asked 
him. 

"  Oh,  'tis  frightful !     Just  imagine  .  .  ." 

And  Pesth  began  to  relate  how  he  had  led  his 
company,  how  the  commander  of  the  company  had 
been  killed,  how  he  had  spitted  a  Frenchman,  and 
how,  if  it  had  not  been  for  him,  the  battle  would 
have  been  lost. 

The  foundations  for  this  tale,  that  the  com- 
pany commander  had  been  killed,  and  that  Pesth 
had  killed  a  Frenchman,  were  correct ;  but,  in 
giving  the  details,  the  yunker  had  invented  facts 
and  bragged. 

He  bragged  involuntarily,  because,  during  the 
whole  engagement,  he  had  been  in  a  kind  of  mist, 
and  had  forgotten  himself  to  such  a  degree  that 
everything  which  happened  seemed  to  him  to  have 
happened  somewhere,  sometime,  and  with  some 
one,   and   very   naturally   he   had   endeavored  to 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY.  g^ 

bring  out  these  details  in  a  light  which  should  be 
favorable  to  himself.  But  what  had  happened  in 
reality  was  this  :  — 

The  battalion  to  which  the  yunker  had  been 
ordered  for  the  sortie  had  stood  under  fire  for 
two  hours,  near  a  wall ;  then  the  commander  of 
the  battalion  said  something,  the  company  com- 
manders made  a  move,  the  battalion  got  under 
way,  issued  forth  from  behind  the  breastworks, 
marched  forward  a  hundred  paces,  and  came  to  a 
halt  in  columns.  Pesth  had  been  ordered  to  take 
his  stand  on  the  right  flank  of  the  second  company. 

The  yunker  stood  his  ground,  absolutely  with- 
out knowing  where  he  was,  or  why  he  was  there, 
and,  with  restrained  breath,  and  with  a  cold  chill 
running  down  his  spine,  he  had  stared  stupidly 
straight  ahead  into  the  dark  beyond,  in  the  expec- 
tation of  something  terrible.  But,  since  there 
was  no  firing  in  progress,  he  did  not  feel  so  much 
terrified  as  he  did  queer  and  strange  at  finding 
himself  outside  the  fortress,  in  the  open  plain. 
Again  the  battalion  commander  ahead  said  some- 
thing. Again  the  oflficers  had  conversed  in 
whispers,  as  they  communicated  the  orders,  and 
the  black  wall  of  the  first  company  suddenly  dis- 


94  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 

appeared.  They  bad  been  ordered  to  lie  down. 
The  second  company  lay  down  also,  and  Pesth,  in 
the  act,  pricked  bis  band  on  something  sharp. 
The  only  man  who  did  not  lie  down  was  the  com- 
mander of  the  second  company.  His  short  form, 
with  the  naked  sword  which  he  was  flourishing, 
talking  incessantly  the  while,  moved  about  in 
front  of  the  troop. 

*'  Children !  my  lads  !  .  .  .  look  at  me  !  Don't 
fire  at  them,  but  at  them  with  your  bayonets, 
the  dogs !  When  I  shout,  Hurrah  !  follow  me 
close  .  .  .  thechief  thing  is  to  be  as  close  together 
as  possible  ...  let  us  show  what  we  are  made  of! 
Do  not  let  us  cover  ourselves  with  shame  —  shall 
we,  hey,  my  children .?  For  our  father  the 
Tsar !  " 

"  What  is  our  company  commander's  sur- 
name } "  Pesth  inquired  of  a  yunker,  who  was 
lying  beside  him.     "  What  a  brave  fellow  he  is  !  " 

"  Yes,  he's  always  that  way  in  a  fight  .  .  ." 
answered  the  yunker.  *'  His  name  is  Lisin- 
kovsky." 

At  that  moment,  a  flame  flashed  up  in  front  of 
the  company.  There  was  a  crash,  which  deafened 
them  all,  stones  and  splinters  flew  high  in  the  air 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  q^ 

(fifty  seconds,  at  least,  later  a  stone  fell  from 
above  and  crushed  the  foot  of  a  soldier).  This 
was  a  bomb  from  an  elevated  platform,  and  the 
fact  that  it  fell  in  the  midst  of  the  company 
proved  that  the  French  had  caught  sight  of  the 
column. 

*'  So  they  are  sending  bombs !  .  .  .  Just  let  us 
get  at  you,  and  you  shall  feel  the  bayonet  of  a 
three-sided  Russian,  curse  you!"  shouted  the 
commander  of  the  company,  in  so  loud  a  tone  that 
the  battalion  commander  was  forced  to  order  him 
to  be  quiet  and  not  to  make  so  much  noise. 

After  this  the  first  company  rose  to  their  feet, 
and  after  it  the  second.  They  were  ordered  to 
fix  bayonets,  and  the  battalion  advanced.  Pesth 
was  so  terrified  that  he  absolutely  could  not 
recollect  whether  they  advanced  far,  or  whither, 
or  who  did  what.  He  walked  like  a  drunken 
man.  But  all  at  once  millions  of  fires  flashed 
from  all  sides,  there  was  a  whistling  and  a  crash- 
ing. He  shrieked  and  ran,  because  they  were  all 
shrieking  and  running.  Then  he  stumbled  and 
fell  upon  something.  It  was  the  company  com- 
mander (who  had  been  wounded  at  the  head  of 
his  men  and  who,  taking  the  yunker  for  a  French- 


96  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

man,  seized  him  by  the  leg).  Then  when  he  had 
freed  his  leg,  and  risen  to  his  feet,  some  man  ran 
against  his  back  in  the  dark  and  almost  knocked 
him  down  again  ;  another  man  shouted,  ''Run  him 
through  !  what  are  you  staring  at !  " 

Then  he  seized  a  gun,  and  ran  the  bayonet 
into  something  soft.  *'  Ah,  Dieu ! "  exclaimed 
some  one  in  a  terribly  piercing  voice,  and  then 
only  did  Pesth  discover  that  he  had  transfixed 
a  Frenchman.  The  cold  sweat  started  out  all 
over  his  body.  He  shook  as  though  in  a  fever, 
and  flung  away  the  gun.  But  this  lasted  only  a 
moment ;  it  immediately  occurred  to  him  that  he 
was  a  hero.  He  seized  the  gun  again,  and,  shout- 
ing •'  Hurrah  ! "  with  the  crowd,  he  rushed  away 
from  the  dead  Frenchman.  After  having  trav- 
ersed about  twenty  paces,  he  came  to  the  trench. 
There  he  found  our  men  and  the  company  com- 
mander. 

"  I  have  run  one  man  through ! "  he  said  to  the 
commander. 

"  You're  a  brave  fellow,  Baron.'* 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  97 


XII. 

**  But,  do  you  know,  Praskukhin  has  been 
killed,"  said  Pesth,  accompanying  Kalugin,  on  the 
way  back. 

"  It  cannot  be  !  " 

"  But  it  can.     I  saw  him  myself.'* 

"  Farewell ;  I  am  in  a  hurry." 

*'  I  am  well  content,"  thought  Kalugin,  as  he 
returned  home ;  "  I  have  had  luck  for  the  first 
time  when  on  duty.  That  was  a  capital  engage- 
ment, and  I  am  alive  and  whole.  There  will  be 
some  fine  presentations,  and  I  shall  certainly  get  a 
golden  sword.     And  I  deserve  it  too." 

After  reporting  to  the  general  all  that  was 
necessary,  he  went  to  his  room,  in  which  sat 
Prince  Galtsin,  who  had  returned  long  before, 
and  who  was  reading  a  book,  which  he  had  found 
on  Kalugin's  table,  while  waiting  for  him. 

It  was  with  a  wonderful  sense  of  enjoyment 
that  Kalugin  found  himself  at  home  again,  out  of 
all  danger,  and,  having  donned  his  night-shirt  and 


98 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


lain  down  on  the  sofa,  he  began  to  relate  to 
Galtsin  the  particulars  of  the  affair,  communicat- 
ing them,  naturally,  from  a  point  of  view  which 
made  it  appear  that  he,  Kalugin,  was  a  very 
active  and  valiant  officer,  to  which,  in  my  opinion, 
it  was  superfluous  to  refer,  seeing  that  every 
one  knew  it  and  that  no  one  had  any  right  to 
doubt  it,  with  the  exception,  perhaps,  of  the 
deceased  Captain  Praskukhin,  who,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  he  had  considered  it  a  piece  of  happi- 
ness to  walk  arm  in  arm  with  Kalugin,  had  told  a 
friend,  only  the  evening  before,  in  private,  that 
Kalugin  was  a  very  fine  man,  but  that,  between 
you  and  me,  he  was  terribly  averse  to  going  to  the 
bastions. 

No  sooner  had  Praskukhin,  who  had  been  walk- 
ing beside  Mikhailoff,  taken  leave  of  Kalugin,  and, 
betaking  himself  to  a  safer  place,  had  begun  to 
recover  his  spirits  somewhat,  than  he  caught  sight 
of  a  flash  of  lightning  behind  him  flaring  up 
vividly,  heard  the  shout  of  the  sentinel,  "Mor- 
tar !  "  and  the  words  of  the  soldiers  who  were 
marching  behind,  "  It's  flying  straight  at  the 
bastion  ! " 

Mikhailoff  glanced  round.     The  brilliant  point 


SE  VASTOPOL  IN  MA  V.  qq 

of  the  bomb  seemed  to  be  suspended  directly  over 
his  head  in  such  a  position  that  it  was  abso- 
lutely impossible  to  determine  its  course.  But  this 
lasted  only  for  a  second.  The  bomb  came  faster 
and  faster,  nearer  and  nearer,  the  sparks  of  the 
fuse  were  already  visible,  and  the  fateful  whistle 
was  audible,  and  it  descended  straight  in  the 
middle  of  the  battalion. 

**  Lie  down  !  "  shouted  a  voice. 

Mikhailoff  and  Praskukhin  threw  themselves  on 
the  ground.  Praskukhin  shut  his  eyes,  and  only 
heard  the  bomb  crash  against  the  hard  earth 
somewhere  in  the  vicinity.  A  second  passed, 
which  seemed  an  hour  —  and  the  bomb  had  not 
burst.  Praskukhin  was  alarmed  ;  had  he  felt 
cowardly  for  nothing }  Perhaps  the  bomb  had 
fallen  at  a  distance,  and  it  merely  seemed  to  him 
that  the  fuse  was  hissing  near  him.  He  opened 
his  eyes,  and  saw  with  satisfaction  that  Mikhailoff 
was  lying  motionless  on  the  earth,  at  his  very 
feet.  But  then  his  eyes  encountered  for  a  mo- 
ment the  glowing  fuse  of  the  bomb,  which 
was  twisting  about  at  a  distance  of  an  arshin 
from  him. 

A   cold   horror,   which   excluded    every    other 


lOO  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

thought  and  feeling,  took  possession  of  his  whole 
being.     He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

Another  second  passed  —  a  second  in  which  a 
whole  world  of  thoughts,  feelings,  hopes,  and 
memories  flashed  through  his  mind. 

''Which  will  be  killed,  Mikhai-loff  or  I.?  Or 
both  together  .'*  And  if  it  is  I,  where  will  it 
strike  }  If  in  the  head,  then  all  is  over  with  me  ; 
but  if  in  the  leg,  they  will  cut  it  off,  and  I  shall 
ask  them  to  be  sure  to  give  me  chloroform,  — and 
I  may  still  remain  among  the  living.  But  perhaps 
no  one  but  Mikhailoff  will  be  killed  ;  then  I  will 
relate  how  we  were  walking  along  together,  and 
how  he  was  killed  and  his  blood  spurted  over  me. 
No,  it  is  nearer  to  me  ...  it  will  kill  me !  " 

Then  he  remembered  the  twenty  rubles  which 
he  owed  Mikhailoff,  and  recalled  another  debt  in 
Petersburg,  which  ought  to  have  been  paid  long 
ago  ;  the  gypsy  air  which  he  had  sung  the  previous 
evening  recurred  to  him.  The  woman  whom  he 
loved  appeared  to  his  imagination  in  a  cap  with 
lilac  ribbons,  a  man  who  had  insulted  him  five 
years  before,  and  whom  he  had  not  paid  off  for 
his  insult,  came  to  his  mind,  though  inextricably 
interwoven  with  these  and  with  a  thousand  other 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


lOI 


memories  the  feeling  of  the  moment  —  the  fear  of 
death —  never  deserted  him  for  an  instant. 

*'  But  perhaps  it  will  not  burst,"  he  thought, 
and,  with  the  decision  of  despair,  he  tried  to  open 
his  eyes.  But  at  that  instant,  through  the  crevice 
of  his  eyelids,  his  eyes  were  smitten  with  a  red  fire, 
and  something  struck  him  in  the  centre  of  the 
breast,  with  a  frightful  crash  ;  he  ran  off,  he  knew 
not  whither,  stumbled  over  his  sword,  which  had 
got  between  his  legs,  and  fell  over  on  his  side. 

"  Thank  God !  I  am  only  bruised,"  was  his 
first  thought,  and  he  tried  to  touch  his  breast  with 
his  hands ;  but  his  arms  seemed  fettered,  and 
pincers  were  pressing  his  head.  The  soldiers 
flitted  before  his  eyes,  and  he  unconsciously 
counted  them  :  *'  One,  two,  three  soldiers ;  and 
there  is  an  officer,  wrapped  up  in  his  cloak,"  he 
thought.  Then  a  flash  passed  before  his  eyes, 
and  he  thought  that  something  had  been  fired  off ; 
was  it  the  mortars,  or  the  cannon  .-^  It  must  have 
been  the  cannon.  And  there  was  still  another 
shot  ;  and  there  were  more  soldiers ;  five,  six, 
seven  soldiers  were  passing  by  him.  Then  sud- 
denly he  felt  afraid  that  they  would  crush  him. 
He  wanted  to  shout  to  them  that  he  was  bruised  ; 


102  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

but  his  mouth  was  so  dry  that  his  tongue  clove 
to  his  palate  and  he  was  tortured  by  a  frightful 
thirst. 

He  felt  that  he  was  wet  about  the  breast : 
this  sensation  of  dampness  reminded  him  of 
water,  and  he  even  wanted  to  drink  this,  whatever 
it  was.  "  I  must  have  brought  the  blood  when  I 
fell,"  he  thought,  and,  beginning  to  give  way  more 
and  more  to  terror,  lest  the  soldiers  who  passed 
should  crush  him,  he  collected  all  his  strength, 
and  tried  to  cry:  "Take  me  with  you!"  but, 
instead  of  this,  he  groaned  so  terribly  that 
it  frightened  him  to  hear  himself.  Then  more 
red  fires  flashed  in  his  eyes  —  and  it  seemed  to 
him  as  though  the  soldiers  were  laying  stones 
upon  him ;  the  fires  danced  more  and  more  rarely, 
the  stones  which  they  piled  on  him  oppressed 
him  more  and  more. 

He  exerted  all  his  strength,  in  order  to  cast 
off  the  stones ;  he  stretched  himself  out,  and 
no  longer  saw  or  heard  or  thought  or  felt  any- 
thing. He  had  been  killed  on  the  spot  by  a 
splinter  of  shell,  in  the  middle  of  the  breast. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY, 


103 


XIII. 

Mikhafloff,  on  catching  sight  of  the  bomb,  fell 
to  the  earth,  and,  like  Praskukhin,  he  went  over 
in  thought  and  feeling  an  incredible  amount  in 
those  two  seconds  while  the  bomb  lay  there  un- 
exploded.  He  prayed  to  God  mentally,  and  kept 
repeating  :  "  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 

"  And  why  did  I  enter  the  military  service  ?  "  he 
thought  at  the  same  time;  **and  why,  again,  did 
I  exchange  into  the  infantry,  in  order  to  take  part 
in  this  campaign  ?'  Would  it  not  have  been  better 
for  me  to  remai-n  in  the  regiment  of  Uhlans,  in 
the  town  of  T.,  and  pass  the  time  with  my  friend 
Natasha  ?    And  now  this  is  what  has  come  of  it." 

And  he  began  to  count,  "One,  two,  three,  four," 
guessing  that  if  it  burst  on  the  even  number,  he 
would  live,  but  if  on  the  uneven  number,  then  he 
should  be  killed.  "All  is  over  ;  killed,"  he  thought, 
when  the  bomb  burst  (he  did  not  remember 
whether  it  was  on  the  even  or  the  uneven  num- 
ber), and  he  felt  a  blow,  and  a  sharp  pain  in  his 


I04  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY, 

head.  "Lord,  forgive  my  sins,"  he  murmured,  fold- 
ing his  hands,  then  rose,  and  fell  back  senseless. 

His  first  sensation,  when  he  came  to  himself, 
was  the  blood  which  was  flowing  from  his  nose, 
and  a  pain  in  his  head,  which  had  become  much 
less  powerful.  **  It  is  my  soul  departing,"  he 
thought.  —  "What  will  it  be  like  there f  Lord, 
receive  my  soul  in  peace !  —  But  one  thing  is 
strange,"  he  thought,  —  "and  that  is  that,  though 
dying,  I  can  still  hear  so  plainly  the  footsteps  of 
the  soldiers  and  the  report  of  the  shots." 

"  Send  some  bearers  .  .  .  hey  there  .  .  .  the 
captain  is  killed  !  "  shouted  a  voice  over  his  head, 
which  he  recognized  as  the  voice  of  his  drummer 
Ignatieff. 

Some  one  grasped  him  by  the  shoulders.  He 
made  an  effort  to  open  his  eyes,  and  saw  overhead 
the  dark  blue  heavens,  the  clusters  of  stars,  and 
two  bombs,  which  were  flying  over  him,  one  after 
the  other  ;  he  saw  Ignatieff,  the  soldiers  with  the 
stretcher,  the  walls  of  the  trench,  and  all  at  once 
he  became  convinced  that  he  was  not  yet  in  the 
other  world. 

He  had  been  slightly  wounded  in  the  head  with 
a  stone.     His  very  first  impression  was  one  re- 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY.  IO5 

s  sembling  regret ;  he  had  so  beautifully  and  so 
calmly  prepared  himself  for  transit  yonder  that  a 
return  to  reality,  with  its  bombs,  its  trenches,  and 
its  blood,  produced  a  disagreeable  effect  on  him  ; 
his  second  impression  was  an  involuntary  joy 
that  he  was  alive,  and  the  third  a  desire  to  leave 
the  bastion  as  speedily  as  possible.  The  drum- 
mer bound  up  his  commander's  head  with  his 
handkerchief,  and,  taking  him  under  the  arm,  he 
led  him  to  the  place  where  the  bandaging  was 
going  on. 

**  But  where  am  I  going,  and  why  ? "  thought 
the  staff-captain,  when  he  recovered  his  senses  a 
little.  —  "  It  is  my  duty  to  remain  with  my  men, 
—  the  more  so  as  they  will  soon  be  out  of  range  of 
the  shots,"  some  voice  whispered  to  him. 

"  Never  mind,  brother,"  he  said,  pulling  his 
arm  away  from  the  obliging  drummer.  "  I  will 
not  go  to  the  field-hospital ;  I  will  remain  with 
my  men." 

And  he  turned  back. 

"  You  had  better  have  your  wound  properly 
attended  to.  Your  Honor,"  said  Ignatieff.  "  In 
the  heat  of  the  moment,  it  seems  as  if  it  were  a 
trifle ;  but  it  will  be  the  worse  if  not  attended  to. 


I06  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

There  is  some  inflammation  rising  there  .  .  .  real- 
ly, now,  Your  Honor." 

Mikhailoff  paused  for  a  moment  in  indecision, 
and  would  have  followed  Ignatieff's  advice,  in  all 
probability,  had  he  not  called  to  mind  how  many 
severely  wounded  men  there  must  needs  be  at 
the  field-hospital.  *'  Perhaps  the  doctor  will 
smile  at  my  scratch,"  thought  the  staff-captain, 
and  he  returned  with  decision  to  his  men,  wholly 
regardless  of  the  drummer's  admonitions. 

"And  where  is  Officer  Praskukhin,  who,. was 
walking  with  me  t  "  he  asked  the  lieutenant,  who 
was  leading  the  corps  when  they  met. 

"I  don't  know  —  killed,  probably,"  replied  the 
lieutenant,  reluctantly. 

*'  How  is  it  that  you  do  not  know  whether  he 
was  killed  or  wounded  }  He  was  walking  with  us. 
And  why  have  you  not  carried  him  with  you  } " 

"How  could  it  be  done,  brother^  when  the 
place  was  so  hot  for  us  !  " 

"Ah,  how  could  you  do  such  a  thing,  Mikhail 
Ivanowitch  !  "  said  Mikhailoff,  angrily. — "How 
could  you  abandon  him  if  he  was  alive ;  and  if  he 
was  dead,  you  should  still  have  brought  away  his 
body." 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


107 


"  How  could  he  be  alive  when,  as  I  tell  you,  I 
went  up  to  him  and  saw  ! "  returned  the  lieuten- 
ant.—  "As  you  like,  however!  Only,  his  own 
men  might  carry  him  off.  Here,  you  dogs  !  the 
cannonade  has  abated,"  he  added.  .  .  . 

Mikhailoff  sat  down,  and  clasped  his  head, 
which  the  motion  caused  to  pain  him  terribly. 

"  Yes,  I  must  go  and  get  him,  without  fail ; 
perhaps  he  is  still  alive,"  said  Mikhailoff.  "  It 
is  our  duty,  Mikhail  Ivanowitch ! " 

Mikhail  Ivanowitch  made  no  reply. 

"  He  did  not  take  him  at  the  time,  and  now  the 
soldiers  must  be  sent  alone — and  how  can  they  be 
sent }  their  lives  may  be  sacrificed  in  vain,  under 
that  hot  fire,"  thought  Mikhailoff. 

"Children!  we  must  go  back  —  and  get  the 
officer  who  was  wounded  there  in  the  ditch,"  he 
said,  in  not  too  loud  and  commanding  a  tone,  for 
he  felt  how  unpleasant  it  would  be  to  the  soldiers 
to  obey  his  order,  —  and,  in  fact,  as  he  did  not 
address  any  one  in  particular  by  name,  no  one  set 
out  to  fulfil  it. 

"  It  is  quite  possible  that  he  is  already  dead, 
and  it  is  not  worth  luhile  to  subject  the  men  to 
unnecessary  danger ;  I  alone  am  to  blame  for  not 


I08  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 

having  seen  to  it.  I  will  go  myself  and  learn 
whether  he  is  alive.  It  is  my  duty,"  said  Mikhat- 
loff  to  himself. 

"  Mikhail  Ivanowitch  !  Lead  the  men  forward, 
and  I  will  overtake  you,"  he  said,  and,  pulling  up 
his  cloak  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  con- 
stantly touching  the  image  of  Saint  Mitrofaniy, 
in  which  he  cherished  a  special  faith,  he  set  off  on 
a  run  along  the  trench. 

Having  convinced  himself  that  Praskukhin  was 
dead,  he  dragged  himself  back,  panting,  and  sup- 
porting with  his  hand  the  loosened  bandage  and 
his  head,  which  began  to  pain  him  severely.  The 
battalion  had  already  reached  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
and  a  place  almost  out  of  range  of  shots,  when 
Mikhailoff  overtook  it.  I  say,  almost  out  of 
range,  because  some  stray  bombs  struck  here 
and  there. 

"  At  all  events,  I  must  go  to  the  hospital  to- 
morrow, and  put  down  my  name,"  thought  the 
staff-captain,  as  the  medical  student  assisting  the 
doctors  bound  his  wound. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


109 


XIV. 

Hundreds  of  bodies,  freshly  smeared  with  blood, 
of  men  who  two  hours  previous  had  been  filled 
with  divers  lofty  or  petty  hopes  and  desires,  now 
lay,  with  stiffened  limbs,  in  the  dewy,  flowery 
valley  which  separated  the  bastion  from  the 
trench,  and  on  the  level  floor  of  the  chapel  for  the 
dead  in  Sevastopol ;  hundreds  of  men  crawled, 
twisted,  and  groaned,  with  curses  and  prayers  on 
their  parched  lips,  some  amid  the  corpses  in  the 
flower-strewn  vale,  others  on  stretchers,  on  cots, 
and  on  the  blood-stained  floor  of  the  hospital. 

And  still,  as  on  the  days  preceding,  the  dawn 
glowed,  over  Sapun  Mountain,  the  twinkling  stars 
paled,  the  white  mist  spread  abroad  from  the  dark 
sounding  sea,  the  red  glow  illuminated  the  east, 
long  crimson  cloudlets  darted  across  the  blue 
horizon  j  and  still,  as  on  days  preceding,  the 
powerful,  all-beautiful  sun  rose  up,  giving  promise 
of  joy,  love,  and  happiness  to  all  who  dwell  in 
the  world. 


no  SEVAS  TO  POL  IN  MA  Y. 


XV.  . 

On  the  following  day,  the  band  of  the  chasseurs 
was  playing  again  on  the  boulevard,  and  again 
officers,  cadets,  soldiers,  and  young  women  were 
promenading  in  festive  guise  about  the  pavilion 
and  through  the  low-hanging  alleys  of  fragrant 
white  acacias  in  bloom. 

Kalugin,  Prince  Galtsin,  and  some  colonel  or 
other  were  walking  arm-in-arm  near  the  pavilion, 
and  discussing  the  engagement  of  the  day  before. 
As  always  happens  in  such  cases,  the  chief  gov- 
erning thread  of  the  conversation  was  not  the 
engagement  itself,  but  the  part  which  those 
who  were  narrating  the  story  of  the  affair  took 
in  it. 

Their  faces  and  the  sound  of  their  voices  had 
a  serious,  almost  melancholy  expression,  as  though 
the  loss  of  the  preceding  day  had  touched  and 
saddened  them  deeply  ;  but,  to  tell  the  truth,  as 
none  of  them  had  lost  any  one  very  near  to  him, 
this  expression  of  sorrow  was  an  official  expres- 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  i\\ 

sion,  which  they  merely  felt  it  to  be  their  duty  to 
exhibit. 

On  the  contrary,  Kalugin  and  the  colonel  were 
ready  to  see  an  engagement  of  the  same  sort 
every  day,  provided  that  they  might  receive  a 
gold  sword  or  the  rank  of  major-general  —  not- 
withstanding the  fact  that  they  were  very  fine  fel- 
lows. 

I  like  it  when  any  warrior  who  destroys  mill- 
ions to  gratify  his  ambition  is  called  a  monster. 
Only  question  any  Lieutenant  Petrushkoff,  and 
Sub-Lieutenant  Antonoff,  and  so  on,  on  their 
word  of  honor,  and  every  one  of  them  is  a  petty 
Napoleon,  a  petty  monster,  and  ready  to  bring  on 
a  battle  on  the  instant,  to  murder  a  hundred  men, 
merely  for  the  sake  of  receiving  an  extra  cross 
or  an  increase  of  a  third  in  his  pay. 

"No,  excuse  me,"  said  the  colonel;  "it  be- 
gan first  on  the  left  flank.     I  was  there  myself'' 

"Possibly,"  answered  Kalugin.  **  I  was  farther 
on  the  right ;  I  went  there  twice.  Onee  I  was  in 
search  of  the  general y  and  the  second  time  I  tvefzt 
merely  to  ijtspect  the  lodgements.  It  zvas  a  hot 
place:' 

"  Yes,  of  course,  Kalugin  knows,"  said  Prince 


112  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 

Galtsin  to  the  colonel.  "  You  know  that  V.  told 
me  to-day  that  you  were  a  brave  fellow.  .  .  ." 

**  But  the  losses,  the  losses  were  terrible,"  said 
the  colonel.  **/  lost  four  hundred  men  fro7n  my 
regiment.  It's  a  zvonder  that  I  escaped  from  tJiere 
alive  .'^ 

At  this  moment,  the  figure  of  Mikha'i'loff,  with 
his  head  bandaged,  appeared  at  the  other  ex- 
tremity of  the  boulevard,  coming  to  meet  these 
gentlemen. 

"  What,  are  you  wounded,  captain  ? "  said 
Kalugin. 

"Yes,  slightly,  with  a  stone,"  replied  Mikha'f- 
loff. 

**  Has  the  flag  been  lowered  yet .? "  *  inquired 
Prince  Galtsin,  gazing  over  the  staff-captain*s 
cap,  and  addressing  himself  to  no  one  in  par- 
ticular. 

"Non,  pas  encore,"  answered  Mikha'ilofiF,  who 
wished  to  show  that  he  understood  and  spoke 
French. 

"  Is  the  truce  still  in  force  ? "  said  Galtsin, 
addressing  him  courteously  in  Russian,  and 
thereby   intimating — so   it    seemed    to    the   cap- 

*  This  sentence  is  in  French. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


113 


tain — It    must    be    difficult    for    you    to    speak 

French,  so   why  is  it  not  better  to  talk  in  your 

own   tongue    simply  ?  .  .  .      And    with    this    the 

adjutants  left   him.     The  staff-captain  again  felt 

lonely,   as   on    the    preceding    evening,    and,    ex- 

chano^ino-  salutes  with  various  orentlemen, —  some 
00  »-» 

he  did  not  care,  and  others  he  did  not  dare, 
to  join,— he  seated  himself  near  Kazarsky's  mon- 
ument, and  lighted  a  cigarette. 

Baron  Pesth  also  had  come  to  the  boulevard. 
He  had  been  telling  how  he  had  gone  over  to 
arrange  the  truce,  and  had  conversed  with  the 
French  officers,  and  he  declared  that  one  had 
said  to  him,  "If  daylight  had  held  off  another 
half-hour,  these  ambushes  would  have  been  re- 
taken ; "  and  that  he  had  replied,  "  Sir,  I  refrain 
from  saying  no,  in  order  not  to  give  you  the 
lie,"  and  how  well  he  had  said  it,  and  so  on. 

But,  in  reality,  although  he  had  had  a  hand 
in  the  truce,  he  had  not  dared  to  say  anything 
very  particular  there,  although  he  had  been  very 
desirous  of  talking  with  the  French  (for  it  is 
awfully  jolly  to  talk  with  Frenchmen).  Yunker 
Baron  Pesth  had  marched  up  and  down  the 
line   for   a   long    time,    incessantly   inquiring    of 


114  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 

the  Frenchmen  who  were  near  him  :  "  To  what 
regiment  do  you  belong  ?  "  They  answered  him  ; 
and  that  was  the  end  of  it. 

When   he  walked    too   far  along  the   line,  the 
French   sentry,  not    suspecting  that   this  soldier 
understood  French,  cursed  him.     "He  has  come 
to  spy  out  our  works,  the  cursed  .  .  ."  said  he  ; 
and,  in   consequence,   Yunker   Baron   Pesth,  tak- 
ing   no    further    interest    in    the    truce,    went 
home,    and    thought    out    on    the    way    thither 
those    French    phrases,    which    he    had    now   re- 
peated.    Captain  Zoboff  was  also    on    the  boule- 
vard, talking   loudly,  and    Captain  Obzhogoff,  in 
a   very   dishevelled    condition,    and    an    artillery 
captain,    who    courted   no    one,    and   was    happy 
in   the   love    of   the    yunkers,    and   all   the    faces 
which   had    been   there   on   the   day  before,  and 
all  still  actuated  by  the  same  motives.     No  one 
was    missing   except   Praskukhin,  .Neferdoff,    and 
some  others,  whom   hardly  any  one  remembered 
or  thought  of  now,  though  their  bodies  were  not 
yet  washed,  laid  out,  and  interred  in  the  earth. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 


115 


XVI. 

White  flags  had  been  hung  out  from  our 
bastion,  and  from  the  trenches  of  the  French, 
and  in  the  blooming  valley  between  them  lay 
disfigured  corpses,  shoeless,  in  garments  of  gray 
or  blue,  which  laborers  were  engaged  in  carry- 
ing off  and  heaping  upon  carts.  The  odor  of 
the  dead  bodies  filled  the  air.  Throngs  of 
people  had  poured  out  of  Sevastopol,  and  from 
the  French  camp,  to  gaze  upon  this  spectacle, 
and  they  pressed  one  after  the  other  with  eager 
and   benevolent    curiosity. 

Listen  to  what  these  people  are  saying. 

Here,  in  a  group  of  Russians  and  French 
who  have  come  together,  is  a  young  officer, 
who  speaks  French  badly,  but  well  enough  to 
make  himself  understood,  examining  a  cartridge- 
box  of  the   guards. 

"  And  what  is  this  bird  here  for } "  says  he. 

"  Because    it  is  a  cartridge-box  belonging  to 


Il6  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY, 

a  regiment  of  the  guards,  Monsieur,  and  bears 
the  Imperial  eagle." 

**  And  do   you  belong   to  the   guard  ?  '* 

"Pardon,  Monsieur,  I  belong  to  the  sixth  reg- 
iment of  the  line." 

"And  this  —  bought  where?"  asks  the  officer, 
pointing  to  a  cigar-holder  of  yellow  wood,  in 
which  the  Frenchman  was  smoking  his  cigarette. 

"At  Balaklava,  Monsieur.  It  is  very  plain, 
of  palm-wood." 

"  Pretty  !  "  says  the  officer,  guided  in  his  con- 
versation not  so  much  by  his  own  wishes  as 
by  the  words  which    he   knows. 

"  If  you  will  have  the  kindness  to  keep  it  as 
a  souvenir  of  this  meeting,  you  will  confer  an 
obligation  on  me." 

And  the  polite  Frenchman  blows  out  the 
cigarette,  and  hand^  the  holder  over  to  the 
officer  with  a  little  bow.  The  officer  gives  him 
his,  and  all  the  members  of  the  group,  French- 
men as  well  as  Russians,  appear  very  much  pleased 
and  smile. 

Then  a  bold  infantryman,  in  a  pink  shirt, 
with  his  cloak  thrown  over  his  shoulders,  ac- 
companied by  two  other  soldiers,  who,  with  their 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  nj 

hands  behind  their  backs,  were  standing  behind 
him,  with  merry,  curious  countenances,  stepped 
up  to  a  Frenchman,  and  requested  a  light  for 
his  pipe.  The  Frenchman  brightened  his  fire, 
stirred  up  his  short  pipe,  and  shook  out  a  light 
for   the    Russian. 

"  Tobacco  good ! "  said  the  soldier  in  the  pink 
shirt  ;  and  the  spectators  smile. 

"  Yes,  good  tobacco,  Turkish  tobacco,"  says 
the  Frenchman.  "  And  your  tobacco  —  Rus- 
sian .? —  good?" 

"Russian,  good,"  says  the  soldier  in  the  pink 
shirt :  whereupon  those  present  shake  with  laugh- 
ter. "  The  French  not  good  —  bon  jour^  Man- 
sieury'  says  the  soldier  in  the  pink  shirt,  letting 
fly  his  entire  charge  of  knowledge  in  the  lan- 
guage at  once,  as  he  laughs  and  taps  the  French- 
man on  the  stomach.  The  French  join  in  the 
laugh. 

"  They  are  not  handsome,  these  beasts  of 
Russians,"  says  a  zouave,  amid  the  crowd  of 
Frenchmen. 

"What  are  they  laughing  about?"  says  an- 
other black-complexioned  one,  with  an  Italian  ac- 
cent, approaching  our  men. 


Il8  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

"  Caftan  good,"  says  the  audacious  soldier,  star- 
ing at  the  zouave's  embroidered  coat-skirts,  and 
then  there  is  another  laugh. 

*'  Don't  leave  your  lines  ;  back  to  your  places, 
sacre  noin  I "  shouts  a  French  corporal,  and  the 
soldiers  disperse  with  evident  reluctance. 

In  the  meantime,  our  young  cavalry  officer 
is  making  the  tour  of  the  French  officers.  The 
conversation  turns  on  some  Count  Sazonoff, 
"  with  whom  I  was  very  well  acquainted.  Mon- 
sieur," says  a  French  officer,  with  one  epaulet  — 
"  he  is  one  of  those  real  Russian  counts,  of 
whom  we  are  so  fond." 

"  There  is  a  Sazonoff  with  whom  I  am  ac- 
quainted," said  the  cavalry  officer,  "  but  he  is 
not  a  count,  so  far  as  I  know,  at  least  ;  a  little 
dark-complexioned    man,  of   about   your   age." 

"  Exactly,  Monsieur,  that  is  the  man.  Oh, 
how  I  should  like  to  see  that  dear  count  !  If 
you  see  him,  pray,  present  my  compliments  to 
him  —  Captain  Latour,"  says  he,  bowing. 

"  Isn't  this  a  terrible  business  that  we  are  con- 
ducting here  ?  It  was  hot  work  last  night,  wasn't 
it } "  says  the  cavalry  officer,  wishing  to  continue 
the  conversation,  and  pointing  to  the  dead  bodies. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  i  jg 

"  Oh,  frightful,  Monsieur !  But  what  brave 
fellows  your  soldiers  are  —  what  brave  fellows! 
It  is  a  pleasure  to  fight  with  such  valiant 
fellows." 

"  It  must  be  admitted  that  your  men  do  not 
hang  back,  either,"  says  the  cavalry-man,  with 
a  bow,  and  the  conviction  that  he  is  very  ami- 
able. 

But  enough  of  this. 

Let  us  rather  observe  this  lad  of  ten,  clad 
in  an  ancient  cap,  his  father's  probably,  shoes 
worn  on  bare  feet,  and  nankeen  breeches,  held 
up  by  a  single  suspender,  who  had  climbed 
over  the  wall  at  the  very  beginning  of  the 
truce,  and  has  been  roaming  about  the  ravine, 
staring  with  dull  curiosity  at  the  French,  and 
at  the  bodies  which  are  lying  on  the  earth, 
and  plucking  the  blue  wild-flowers  with  which 
the  valley  is  studded.  On  his  way  home  with 
a  large  bouquet,  he  held  his  nose  because  of  the 
odor  which  the  wind  wafted  to  him,  and  paused 
beside  a  pile  of  corpses,  which  had  been  carried 
off  the  field,  and  stared  long  at  one  terrible  head- 
less body,  which  chanced  to  be  the  nearest  to  him. 
After  standing  there  for  a  long  while,  he  stepped 


120  SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY. 

up  closer,  and  touched  with  his  foot  the  stiffened 
arm  of  the  corpse  which  protruded.  The  arm 
swayed  a  little.  He  touched  it  again,  and  with 
more  vigor.  The  arm  swung  back,  and  then  fell 
into  place  again.  And  at  once  the  boy  uttered  a 
shriek,  hid  his  face  in  the  flowers,  and  ran  off  to 
the  fortifications  as  fast  as  he  could  go. 

Yes,  white  flags  are  hung  out  from  the  bastion 
and  the  trenches,  the  flowery  vale  is  filled  with 
dead  bodies,  the  splendid  sun  sinks  into  the 
blue  sea,  and  the  blue  sea  undulates  and  glitters 
in  the  golden  rays  of  the  sun.  Thousands  of 
people  congregate,  gaze,  talk,  and  smile  at  each 
other.  And  why  do  not  Christian  people,  who 
profess  the  one  great  law  of  love  and  self-sac- 
rifice, when  they  behold  what  they  have  wrought, 
fall  in  repentance  upon  their  knees  before  Him 
who,  when  he  gave  them  life,  implanted  in  the 
soul  of  each  of  them,  together  with  a  fear  of 
death,  a  love  of  the  good  and  the  beautiful,  and, 
with  tears  of  joy  and  happiness,  embrace  each 
other  like  brothers  1  No  !  But  it  is  a  comfort  to 
think  that  it  was  not  we  who  began  this  war,  that 
we  are  only  defending  our  own  country,  our  fath- 
er-land.    The  white  flags  have  been  hauled  in,  and 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  MAY.  121 

again  the  weapons  of  death  and  suffering  are 
shrieking;  again  innocent  blood  is  shed,  and  groans 
and  curses  are  audible. 

I  have  now  said  all  that  I  wish  to  say  at  this 
time.  But  a  heavy  thought  overmasters  me. 
Perhaps  it  should  not  have  been  said  ;  perhaps 
what  I  have  said  belongs  to  one  of  those  evil 
truths  which,  unconsciously  concealed  in  the 
soul  of  each  man,  should  not  be  uttered,  lest 
they  become  pernicious,  as  a  cask  of  wine 
should  not  be  shaken,  lest  it  be  thereby 
spoiled. 

Where  is  the  expression  of  evil  which  should 
be  avoided }  Where  is  the  expression  of  good 
which  should  be  imitated  in  this  sketch  }  Who 
is  the  villain,  who  the  hero  }  All  are  good,  and 
all  are  evil. 

Neither  Kalugin,  with  his  brilliant  bravery  — 
bravoure  de  gentilhomme  —  and  his  vanity,  the 
instigator  of  all  his  deeds  ;  nor  Praskukhin,  the 
empty-headed,  harmless  man,  though  he  fell  in 
battle  for  the  faith,  the  throne,  and  his  native 
land ;  nor  MikhaYloff,  with  his  shyness ;  nor 
Pesth,  a  child  with  no  firm  convictions  or  prin- 


122  SEVASTOPOL   IN  MAY. 

ciples,  can  be  either    the    heroes   or  the  villains 
of  the  tale. 

The  hero  of  my  tale,  whom  I  love  with  all 
the  strength  of  my  soul,  whom  I  have  tried 
to  set  forth  in  all  his  beauty,  and  who  has 
always  been,  is,  and  always  will  be  most  beau- 
tiful, is  —  the  truth. 


SEVASTOPOL   IN   AUGUST,    1855. 
I. 

At  the  end  of  August,  along  the  rocky  high- 
way to  Sevastopol,  between  Duvanka  and  Bakh- 
tchisaraY,  through  the  thick,  hot  dust,  at  a  foot- 
pace, drove  an  officer's  light  cart,  that  peculiar 
tclycrJika,  not  now  to  be  met  with,  which  stands 
about  half-way  between  a  Jewish  britchka^  a  Rus- 
sian travelling-carriage,  and  a  basket-wagon.  In 
the  front  of  the  wagon,  holding  the  reins,  squatted 
the  servant,  clad  in  a  nankeen  coat  and  an  offi- 
cer's cap,  which  had  become  quite  limp ;  seated 
behind,  on  bundles  and  packages  covered  with  a 
military  coat,  was  an  infantry  officer,  in  a  summer 
cloak. 

As  well  as  could  be  judged  from  his  sitting  po- 
sition, the  officer  was  not  tall  in  stature,  but  ex- 
tremely thick,  and  that  not  so  much  from  shoulder 
to  shoulder  as  from  chest  to  back  ;  he  was  broad 
and  thick,  and  his  neck  and  the  base  of  the  head 
were    excessively   developed   and    swollen.      His 

123 


124  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

waist,  SO  called,  a  receding  strip  in  the  centre  of 
the  body,  did  not  exist  in  his  case ;  but  neither 
had  he  any  belly  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  was  rather 
thin  than  otherwise,  particularly  in  the  face,  which 
was  overspread  with  an  unhealthy  yellowish  sun- 
burn. His  face  would  have  been  handsome  had  it 
not  been  for  a  certain  bloated  appearance,  and  the 
soft,  yet  not  elderly,  heavy  wrinkles  that  flowed 
together  and  enlarged  his  features,  imparting  to 
the  whole  countenance  a  general  expression  of 
coarseness  and  of  lack  of  freshness.  His  eyes 
were  small,  brown,  extremely  searching,  even 
bold ;  his  moustache  was  very  thick,  but  the 
ends  were  kept  constantly  short  by  his  habit  of 
gnawing  them  ;  and  his  chin,  and  his  cheek-bones 
in  particular  were  covered  with  a  remarkably 
strong,  thick,  and  black  beard,  of  two  days'  growth. 
The  officer  had  been  wounded  on  the  loth  of 
May,  by  a  splinter,  in  the  head,  on  which  he  still 
wore  a  bandage,  and,  having  now  felt  perfectly 
well  for  the  last  week,  he  had  come  out  of  the 
Simferopol  Hospital,  to  rejoin  his  regiment,  which 
was  stationed  somewhere  in  the  direction  from 
which  shots  could  be  heard  ;  but  whether  that 
was  in  Sevastopol  itself,  on  the  northern  defences, 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


12$ 


or  at  Inkermann,  he  had  not  so  far  succeeded  in 
ascertaining  with  much  accuracy  from  any  one. 

Shots  were  still  audible  near  at  hand,  especially 
at  intervals,  when  the  hills  did  not  interfere,  or 
when  borne  on  the  wind  with  great  distinctness 
and  frequency,  and  apparently  near  at  hand.  Then 
it  seemed  as  though  some  explosion  shook  the  air, 
and  caused  an  involuntary  shudder.  Then,  one 
after  the  other,  followed  less  resounding  reports 
in  quick  succession,  like  a  drum-beat,  interrupted 
at  times  by  a  startling  roar.  Then,  everything 
mingled  in  a  sort  of  reverberating  crash,  resem- 
bling peals  of  thunder,  when  a  thunder-storm  is 
in  full  force,  and  the  rain  has  just  begun  to  pour 
down  in  floods,  every  one  said  ;  and  it  could  be 
Jieard  that  the  bombardment  was  progressing 
frightfully. 

The  officer  kept  urging  on  his  servant,  and 
seemed  desirous  of  arriving  as  speedily  as  possi- 
ble. They  were  met  by  a  long  train  of  the  Rus- 
sian-peasant type,  which  had  carried  provisions 
into  Sevastopol,  and  was  now  returning  with  sick 
and  wounded  soldiers  in  gray  coats,  sailors  in  black 
paletots,  volunteers  in  red  fezes,  and  bearded  mili- 
tia-men.    The  officer's  light  cart  had  to  halt  in 


126  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

the  thick,  immovable  cloud  of  dust  raised  by  the 
carts,'  and  the  officer,  blinking  and  frowning  with 
the  dust  that  stuffed  his  eyes  and  ears,  gazed  at 
the  faces  of  the  sick  and  wounded  as  they  passed. 

"  Ah,  there's  a  sick  soldier  from  our  com- 
pany," said  the  servant,  turning  to  his  master, 
and  pointing  to  the  wagon  which  was  just  on  a 
line  with  them,  full  of  wounded,  at  the  moment. 

On  the  cart,  towards  the  front,  a  bearded 
Russian,  in  a  lamb's-wool  cap,  was  seated  side- 
wise,  and,  holding  the  stock  of  his  whip  under 
his  elbow,  was  tying  on  the  lash.  Behind  him  in 
the  cart,  about  five  soldiers,  in  different  positions, 
were  shaking  about.  One,  though  pale  and  thin, 
with  his  arm  in  a  bandage,  and  his  cloak  thrown 
on  over  his  shirt,  was  sitting  up  bravely  in  the 
middle  of  the  cart,  and  tried  to  touch  his  cap 
on  seeing  the  officer,  but  immediately  afterwards 
(recollecting,  probably,  that  he  was  wounded)  he 
pretended  that  he  only  wanted  to  scratch  his 
head.  Another,  beside  him,  was  lying  flat  on  the 
bottom  of  the  wagon  ;  all  that  was  visible  was  two 
hands,  as  they  clung  to  the  rails  of  the  wagon, 
and  his  knees  uplifted  limp  as  mops,  as  they 
swayed    about    in   various    directions.      A    third, 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  127 

with  a  swollen  face  and  a  bandaged  head,  on 
which  was  placed  his  soldier's  cap,  sat  on  one  side, 
with  his  legs  dangling  over  the  wheel,  and,  with 
his  elbows  resting  on  his  knees,  seemed  immersed 
in  thought.  It  was  to  him  that  the  passing  officer 
addressed  himself. 

"  Dolzhnikoff !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Here,"  replied  the  soldier,  opening  his  eyes, 
and  pulling  off  his  cap,  in  such  a  thick  and  halt- 
ing bass  voice  that  it  seemed  as  though  twenty 
soldiers  had  uttered  an  exclamation  at  one  and 
the  same  time. 

"  When  were  you  wounded,  brother } " 

The  leaden  and  swimming  eyes  of  the  soldier 
grew  animated  ;  he  evidently  recognized  his  offi- 
cer. 

**  I  wish  Your  Honor  health  ! "  he  began  again, 
in  the  same  abrupt  bass  as  before. 

"  Where  is  the  regiment  stationed  now  } " 

"  It  was  stationed  in  Sevastopol,  but  they  were 
to  move  on  Wednesday,  Your  Honor." 

"Whereto.?" 

"  I  don't  know ;  it  must  have  been  to  the 
Sivernaya,  Your  Honor  !  To-day,  Your  Honor," 
he  added,  in  a  drawling  voice,  as  he  put  on  his 


128  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

cap,  "  they  have  begun  to  fire  clear  across,  mostly 
with  bombs,  that  even  go  as  far  as  the  bay ; 
they  are  fighting  horribly  to-day,  so  that  —  " 

It  was  impossible  to  hear  what  the  soldier  said 
further ;  but  it  was  evident,  from  the  expression 
of  his  countenance  and  from  his  attitude,  that  he 
was  uttering  discouraging  remarks,  with  the  touch 
of  malice  of  a  man  who  is  suffering. 

The  travelling  officer.  Lieutenant  Kozeltzoff,  was 
no  common  officer.  He  was  not  one  of  those  that 
live  so  and  so  and  do  thus  and  so  because  others 
live  and  do  thus  ;  he  did  whatever  he  pleased,  and 
others  did  the  same,  and  were  convinced  that  it 
was  well.  He  was  rather  richly  endowed  by  na- 
ture with  small  gifts  :  he  sang  well,  played  on  the 
guitar,  talked  very  cleverly,  and  wrote  very  easily, 
particularly  official  documents,  in  which  he  had 
practised  his  hand  in  his  capacity  of  adjutant  of 
the  battalion  ;  but  the  most  noticeable  trait  in 
his  character  was  his  egotistical  energy,  which, 
although  chiefly  founded  on  this  array  of  petty 
talents,  constituted  in  itself  a  sharp  and  striking 
trait.  His  egotism  was  of  the  sort  that  is  most 
frequently  found  developed  in  masculine  and  es- 
pecially in  military  circles,  and  which  had  become 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  129 

a  part  of  his  life  to  such  a  degree  that  he  under- 
stood no  other  choice  than  to  domineer  or  to 
humiliate  himself  ;  and  his  egotism  was  the  main- 
spring even  of  his  private  impulses  ;  he  liked  to 
usurp  the  first  place  over  people  with  whom  he 
put  himself  on  a  level. 

"  Well !  it's  absurd  of  me  to  listen  to  what  a 
Moskva*  chatters!"  muttered  the  lieutenant,  ex- 
periencing a  certain  weight  of  apathy  in  his  heart, 
and  a  dimness  of  thought,  which  the  sight  of  the 
transport  full  of  wounded  and  the  words  of  the 
soldier,  whose  significance  was  emphasized  and 
confirmed  by  the  sounds  of  the  bombardment,  had 
left  with  him.  "  That  Moskva  is  ridiculous ! 
Drive  on,  Nikolaeff !  go  ahead !  Are  you  asleep  V^ 
he  added,  rather  fretfully,  to  the  servant,  as  he  re- 
arranged the  skirts  of  his  coat. 

The  reins  were  tightened,  Nikolaeff  clacked  his 
lips,  and  the  wagon  moved  on  at  a  trot. 

"  We  will  only  halt  a  minute  for  food,  and  will 
proceed  at  once,  this  very  day,"  said  the  officer. 

*  In  many  regiments  the  officers  call  a  soldier,  half  in  scorn, 
half  caressingly,  Moskva  (Moscovite),  ox  prisyaga  (an  oath). 


I30 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


II. 


As  he  entered  the  street  of  the  ruined  remains 
of  the  stone  wall,  forming  the  Tatar  houses  of 
Duvanka,  Lieutenant  Kozeltzoff  was  stopped  by  a 
transport  of  bombs  and  grape-shot,  which  were  on 
their  way  to  Sevastopol,  and  had  accumulated  on 
the  road.  Two  infantry  soldiers  were  seated 
in  the  dust,  on  the  stones  of  a  ruined  garden- 
wall  by  the  roadside,  devouring  a  watermelon  and 
bread. 

"  Have  you  come  far,  fellow-countryman  } "  said 
one  of  them,  as  he  chewed  his  bread,  to  the  soldier, 
with  a  small  knapsack  on  his  back,  who  had  halted 
near  them. 

"I  have  come  from  my  government  to  join  my 
regiment,"  replied  the  soldier,  turning  his  eyes 
away  from  the  watermelon,  and  readjusting  the 
sack  on  his  back.  "There  we  were,  two  weeks 
ago,  at  work  on  the  hay,  a  whole  troop  of  us ;  but 
now  they  have  drafted  all  of   us,  and  we  don't 


SE  VASTOPOL  IN  A  UGUST.  \  3 1 

know  where  our  regiment  is  at  the  present  time. 
They  say  that  our  men  went  on  the  Korabelnaya 
last   week.      Have   you   heard   anything,   gentle- 


men 


'*  It's  stationed  in  the  town,  brother,"  said  the 
second,  an  old  soldier  of  the  reserves,  digging 
away  with  his  clasp-knife  at  the  white,  unripe 
melon.  "We  have- just  come  from  there,  this 
afternoon.     It's  terrible,  my  brother  !  " 

**  How  so,  gentlemen  t  " 

**  Don't  you  hear  how  they  are  firing  all  around 
to-day,  so  that  there  is  not  a  whole  spot  any- 
where }  It  is  impossible  to  say  how  many  of  our 
brethren  have  been  killed."  And  the  speaker 
waved  his  hand  and  adjusted  his  cap. 

The  passing  soldier  shook  his  head  thought- 
fully, gave  a  clack  with  his  tongue,  then  pulled 
his  pipe  from  his  boot-leg,  and,  without  filling  it, 
stirred  up  the  half-burned  tobacco,  lit  a  bit  of 
tinder  from  the  soldier  who  was  smoking,  and 
raised  his  cap. 

"There  is  no  one  like  God,  gentlemen  !  Good- 
bye," said  he,  and,  with  a  shake  of  the  sack  on  his 
back,  he  went  his  way. 

"  Hey,  there !  you'd  better  wait,"  said  the  man 


132  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

who  was  digging  out  the  watermelon,  with  an  air 
of  conviction. 

"  It  makes  no  difference  ! "  muttered  the  trav- 
eller, threading  his  way  among  the  wheels  of  the 
assembled  transports. 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 


Zl 


III. 

The  posting-station  was  full  of  people  when 
Kozeltzoff  drove  up  to  it.  The  first  person  whom 
he  encountered,  on  the  porch  itself,  was  a  thin  and 
very  young  man,  the  superintendant,  who  contin- 
ued his  altercation  with  two  officers,  who  had  fol- 
lowed him  out. 

**  It's  not  three  days  only,  but  ten  that  you  will 
have  to  wait.  Even  generals  wait,  my  good  sirs  !  " 
said  the  superintendent,  with  a  desire  to  adminis- 
ter a  prick  to  the  travellers  ;  "  and  I  am  not  going 
to  harness  up  for  you." 

"  Then  don't  give  anybody  horses,  if  there  are 
none !  But  why  furnish  them  to  some  lackey  or 
other  with  baggage } "  shouted  the  elder  of  the 
two  officers,  with  a  glass  of  tea  in  his  hand,  and 
plainly  avoiding  the  use  of  pronouns,*  but  giv- 
ing it  to  be  understood  that  he  might  very  easily 
address  the  superintendent  as  ^^  thoii^ 

*  This  effect  cannot  be  reproduced  in  English. 


134  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

"Judge  for  yourself,  now,  Mr.  Superintendent," 
said  the  younger  officer,  with  some  hesitation. 
'*  We  don't  want  to  go  for  our  own  pleasure.  We 
must  certainly  be  needed,  since  we  have  been 
called  for.  And  I  certainly  shall  report  to  the 
general.  But  this,  of  course, — you  know  that 
you  are  not  paying  proper  respect  to  the  military 
profession." 

**You  are  always  spoiling  things,"  the  elder 
man  interrupted,  with  vexation.  *'  You  only  hin- 
der me ;  you  must  know  how  to  talk  to  them. 
Here,  now,  he  has  lost  his  respect.  Horses  this 
very  instant,  I  say  !  " 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  give  them  to  you,  bdti- 
Mshka,^  but  where  am  I  to  get  them  } " 

After  a  brief  silence,  the  superintendent  began 
to  grow  irritated,  and  to  talk,  flourishing  his  hands 
the  while. 

"  I  understand,  bdtiitshka.  And  I  know  all 
about  it  myself.  But  what  are  you  going  to  do  } 
Only  give  me" — here  a  ray  of  hope  gleamed 
across  the  faces  of  the  officers  —  "  only  give  me  a 
chance  to  live  until  the  end  of  the  month,  and  you 
won't  see  me  here  any  longer.     I'd  rather  go  on 

*  "  My  good  sir,"  a  familiarly  respectful  mode  of  address. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  135 

the  Malakhoff  tower,  by  Heavens !  than  stay  here. 
Let  them  do  what  they  please  about  it !  There's 
not  a  single  sound  team  in  the  station  this  day, 
and  the  horses  haven't  seen  a  wisp  of  hay  these 
three  days."  And  the  superintendent  disappeared 
behind  the  gate. 

Kozeltzoff  entered  the  room  in  company  with 
the  officers. 

*'  Well,"  said  the  elder  officer,  quite  calmly,  to 
the  younger  one,  although  but  a  second  before  he 
had  appeared  to  be  greatly  irritated,  **we  have 
been  travelling  these  three  weeks,  and  we  will 
wait  a  little  longer.  There's  no  harm  done.  We 
shall  get  there  at  last." 

The  dirty,  smoky  apartment  .was  so  filled  with 
officers  and  trunks  that  it  was  with  difficulty  that 
Kozeltzoff  found  a  place  near  the  window,  where 
he  seated  himself ;  he  began  to  roll  himself  a 
cigarette,  as  he  glanced  at  the  faces  and  lent  an 
ear  to  the  conversations. 

To  the  right  of  the  door,  near  a  crippled  and 
greasy  table,  upon  which  stood  two  samovars, 
whose  copper  had  turned  green  in  spots,  here  and 
there,  and  where  sugar  was  portioned  out  in 
various  papers,  sat  the  principal  group.     A  young 


136  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

officer,  without  moustache,  in  a  new,  short,  wadded 
summer  coat,  was  pouring  water  into  the  teapot. 

Four  such  young  officers  were  there,  in  different 
corners  of  the  room.  One  of  them  had  placed  a 
cloak  under  his  head,  and  was  fast  asleep  on  the 
sofa.  Another,  standing  by  the  table,  was  cutting 
up  some  roast  mutton  for  an  officer  without  an 
arm,  who  was  seated  at  the  table. 

Two  officers,  one  in  an  adjutant's  cloak,  the 
other  in  an  infantry  cloak,  a  thin  one  however, 
and  with  a  satchel  strapped  over  his  shoulder, 
were  sitting  near  the  oven  bench,  and  it  was  evi- 
dent, from  the  very  way  in  which  they  stared  at 
the  rest,  and  from  the  manner  in  which  the  one 
with  the  satchel  smoked  his  cigar,  that  they  were 
not  line  officers  on  duty  at  the  front,  and  that 
they  were  delighted  at  it. 

Not  that  there  was  any  scorn  apparent  in  their 
manner,  but  there  was  a  certain  self-satisfied  tran- 
quillity, founded  partly  on  money  and  partly  on 
their  close  intimacy  with  generals,  a  certain  con- 
sciousness of  superiority  which  even  extended  to 
a  desire  to  hide  it. 

A  thick-lipped  young  doctor  and  an  officer  of 
artillery,  with  a  German  cast  of  countenance,  were 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 


137 


seated  almost  on  the  feet  of  the  young  officer  who 
was  sleeping  on  the  sofa,  and  counting  over  their 
money. 

There  were  four  officers'  servants,  some  dozing 
and  others  busy  with  the  trunks  and  packages 
near  the  door. 

Among  all  these  faces,  Kozeltzoff  did  not  find 
a  single  familiar  one  ;  but  he  began  to  listen 
with  curiosity  to  the  conversation.  The  young 
officers,  who,  as  he  decided  from  their  looks 
alone,  had  but  just  come  out  of  the  military  acad- 
emy, pleased  him,  and,  what  was  the  principal 
point,  they  reminded  him  that  his  brother  had 
also  come  from  the  academy,  and  should  have 
joined  recently  one  of  the  batteries  of  Sevas- 
topol. 

But  the  officer  with  the  satchel,  whose  face  he 
had  seen  before  somewhere,  seemed  bold  and 
repulsive  to  him.  He  even  left  the  window,  and, 
going  to  the  stove-bench,  seated  himself  on  it, 
with  the  thought  that  he  would  put  the  fellow 
down  if  he  took  it  into  his  head  to  say  anything. 
In  general,  purely  as  a  brave  "  line  "  otficer,  he  did 
not  like  "the  staff,"  such  as  he  had  recognized 
these  two  officers  to  be  at  the  first  glance. 


138  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 


IV. 

"  But  this  is  dreadfully  annoying,"  said  one  of 
the  young  officers,  ^*to  be  so  near,  and  yet  not  be 
able  to  get  there.  Perhaps  there  will  be  an  action 
this  very  day,  and  we  shall  not  be  there." 

In  the  sharp  voice  and  the  mottled  freshness  of 
the  color  that  swept  across  the  youthful  face  of 
this  officer  as  he  spoke  there  was  apparent  the 
sweet  young  timidity  of  the  man  who  is  con- 
stantly afraid  lest  his  every  word  shall  not  turn 
out  exactly  right. 

The  one-armed  officer  glanced  at  him  with  a 
smile. 

"  You  will  get  there  soon  enough,  I  assure 
you,"  he  said. 

The  young  officer  looked  with  respect  at  the 
haggard  face  of  the  armless  officer,  so  unexpect- 
edly illuminated  by  a  smile,  held  his  peace  for  a 
while,  and  busied  himself  once  more  with  his  tea. 
In  fact,  the  one-armed  officer's  face,  his  attitude, 
and,  most  of  all,  the  empty  sleeve  of  his  coat,  ex- 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


139 


pressed  much  of  that  tranquil  indifference  that 
may  be  explained  in  this  way  —  that  he  looked 
upon  every  conversation  and  every  occurrence  as 
though  saying,  "  That  is  all  very  fine ;  I  know  all 
about  that,  and  I  can  do  a  little  of  that  myself,  if 
I  only  choose." 

"  What  is  our  decision  to  be  ?  "  said  the  young 
officer  again  to  his  companion  in  the  short  coat. 
"  Shall  we  pass  the  night  here,  or  shall  we  pro- 
ceed with  our  own  horses  .-'  " 

His  comrade  dechned  to  proceed. 

"  Just  imagine,  captain,"  said  the  one  who  was 
pouring  the  tea,  turning  to  the  one-armed  man, 
and  picking  up  the  knife  that  the  latter  had 
dropped,  "  they  told  us  that  horses  were  fright- 
fully dear  in  Sevastopol,  so  we  bought  a  horse  in 
partnership  at  Simferopol." 

"  They  made  you  pay  pretty  high  for  it,  I 
fancy." 

"  Really,  I  do  not  know,  captain  ;  we  paid 
ninety  rubles  for  it  and  the  team.  Is  that  very 
dear }  "  he  added,  turning  to  all  the  company,  and 
to  Kozeltzoff,  who  was  staring  at  him. 

"  It  was  not  dear,  if  the  horse  is  young,"  said 
Kozeltzoff. 


140  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

"  Really !  but  they  told  us  that  it  was  dear. 
Only,  she  limps  a  little,  but  that  will  pass  off. 
They  told  us  that  she  was  very  strong." 

"  What  academy  are  you  from  } "  asked  Kozel- 
tzoff,  who  wished  to  inquire  for  his  brother. 

"  We  are  just  from  the  academy  of  the  nobility  ; 
there  are  six  of  us,  and  we  are  on  our  way  to 
Sevastopol  at  our  own  desire,"  said  the  talkative 
young  officer.  **  But  we  do  not  know  where  our 
battery  is  ;  some  say  that  it  is  in  Sevastopol, 
others  that  it  is  at  Odessa." 

''  Was  it  not  possible  to  find  out  at  Simfer- 
opol } "  asked  Kozeltzoff. 

"They  do  not  know  there.  Just  imagine,  one 
of  our  comrades  went  to  the  headquarters  there, 
and  they  were  impertinent  to  him.  You  can  im- 
agine how  disagreeable  that  was !  Would  you 
like  to  have  me  make  you  a  cigarette,"  he  said  at 
that  moment  to  the  one-armed  officer,  who  was 
just  pulling  out  his  cigarette-machine. 

He  waited  on  the  latter  with  a  sort  of  servile 
enthusiasm. 

"  And  are  you  from  Sevastopol  also  }  "  he  went 
on.  "  Oh,  good  Heavens,  how  wonderful  that  is  ! 
How  much  we  did  think  of  you,  and  of  all  our 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  141 

heroes,  in  Petersburg,"  he  said,  turning  to  Kozel- 
tzoff  with  respect  and  good-natured  flattery. 

"  And  now,  pe;-haps,  you  may  have  to  go  back  ?  " 
inquired  the  lieutenant. 

**  That  is  just  what  we  are  afraid  of.  You  can 
imagine  that,  after  having  thought  the  horse,  and 
provided  ourselves  with  all  the  necessaries,  —  a 
coffee-pot  with  a  spirit-lamp,  and  other  indispen- 
sable trifles,  —  we  have  no  money  left,"  he  said, 
in  a  low  voice,  as  he  glanced  at  his  companions  ; 
"  so  that,  if  we  do  have  to  go  back,  we  don't  know 
what  is  to  be  done." 

"  Have  you  received  no  money  for  travelling 
expenses  t "  inquired  Kozeltzoff. 

*' No,"  replied  he,  in  a  whisper;  "they  only 
promised  to  give  it  to  us  here." 

"  Have  you  the  certificate  t  " 

"I  know  that  —  the  principal  thing  —  is  the 
certificate;  but  a  senator  in  Moscow, — he's  my 
uncle,  —  when  I  was  at  his  house,  said  that  they 
would  give  it  to  us  here  ;  otherwise,  he  would  have 
given  me  some  himself.  So  they  will  give  it  to  us 
here  ? " 

"Most  certainly  they  will." 

**  I  too  think  that  they  will,"  he  said,  in  a  tone 


142  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

which  showed  that,  after  having  made  the  same 
identical  inquiry  in  thirty  posting-stations,  and 
having  everywhere  received  different  answers,  he 
no  longer  believed  any  one  implicitly. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST, 


143 


V. 

"  Who  ordered  beet-soup  ?  "  called  out  the  slat- 
ternly mistress  of  the  house,  a  fat  woman  of 
forty,  as  she  entered  the  room  with  a  bowl  of 
soup. 

The  conversation  ceased  at  once,  and  all  who 
were  in  the  room  fixed  their  eyes  on  the  woman. 

**  Ah,  it  was  Kozeltzoff  who  ordered  it,"  said  the 
young  officer.  "  He  must  be  waked.  Get  up  for 
your  dinner,"  he  said,  approaching  the  sleeper  on 
the  sofa,  and  jogging  his  elbow. 

A  young  lad  of  seventeen,  with  merry  black  eyes 
and  red  cheeks,  sprang  energetically  from  the  sofa, 
and  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  rubbing 
his  eyes. 

"  Ah,  excuse  me,  please,"  he  said  to  the  doctor, 
whom  he  had  touched  in  rising. 

Lieutenant  Kozeltzoff  recognized  his  brother 
immediately,  and  stepped  up  to  him. 

"  Don't  you  know  me  ? "  he  said  with  a  smile. 

"  A-a-a- ! "  exclaimed  the  younger  brother ;  "this 


144  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

is  astonishing ! "      And    he    began    to    kiss    his 
brother. 

They  kissed  twice,  but  stopped  at  the  third  rep- 
etition as  though  the  thought  had  occurred  to 
both  of  them  :  — 

*'  Why  is  it  necessary  to  do  it  exactly  three 
times  ? " 

"  Well,  how  delighted  I  am  ! "  said  the  elder, 
looking  at  his  brother.  "Let  us  go  out  on  the 
porch  ;    we  can  have  a  talk." 

"  Come,  come,  I  don't  want  any  soup.  You  eat 
it,  Federsohn  ! "  he  said  to  his  comrade. 

"  But  you  wanted  something  to  eat.'* 

*'  I  don't  want  anything." 

When  they  emerged  on  the  porch,  the  younger 
kept  asking  his  brother  :  **  Well,  how  are  you  ;  tell 
me  all  about  it."  And  still  he  kept  on  saying  how 
glad  he  was  to  see  him,  but  he  told  nothing 
himself. 

When  five  minutes  had  elapsed,  during  which 
time  they  had  succeeded  in  becoming  somewhat 
silent,  the  elder  brother  inquired  why  the  younger 
had  not  gone  into  the  guards,  as  they  had  all 
expected  him  to  do. 
,    He  wanted  to   get   to   Sevastopol   as   speedily 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  145 

as  possible,  he  said ;  for  if  things  turned  out  fa- 
vorably there,  he  could  get  advancement  more  rap- 
idly there  than  in  the  guards.  There  it  takes  ten 
years  to  reach  the  grade  of  colonel,  while  here 
Todleben  had  risen  in  two  years  from  lieutenant- 
colonel  to  general.  Well,  and  if  one  did  get 
killed,  there  was  nothing  to  be  done. 

*•  What  a  fellow  you   are ! "  said   his  brother, 
smiling. 

"  But  the  principal  thing,  do  you  know, 
brother,"  said  the  younger,  smiling  and  blushing 
as  though  he  were  preparing  to  say  something 
very  disgraceful,  "  all  this  is  nonsense,  and  the 
principal  reason  why  I  asked  it  was  that  I  was 
ashamed  to  live  in  Petersburg  when  men  are  dy- 
ing for  their  country  here.  Yes,  and  I  wanted  to 
be  with  you,"  he  added,  with  still  greater  shame- 
faced ness. 

"  How  absurd  you  are  !  "  said  the  elder  brother, 
pulling  out  his  cigarette-machine,  and  not  even 
glancing  at  him.  "  It's  a  pity,  though,  that  we 
can't  be  together." 

**Now,  honestly,  is  it  so  terrible  in  the  bas- 
tions } "  inquired  the  younger  man,  abruptly. 

"  It  is  terrible  at  first,  but  you  get  used  to  it 


146  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

afterwards.  It's  nothing.  You  will  see  for  your- 
self." 

"And  tell  me  still  another  thing.  What  do  you 
think.? — will  Sevastopol  betaken.?  I  think  that 
it  will  not." 

'*  God  knows  !  " 

*'  But  one  thing  is  annoying.  Just  imagine  what 
bad  luck  !  A  whole  bundle  was  stolen  from  us  on 
the  road,  and  it  had  my  shako  in  it,  so  that  now 
I  am  in  a  dreadful  predicament ;  and  I  don't  know 
how  I  am  to  show  myself." 

The  younger  Kozeltzoff,  Vladfmir,  greatly  resem- 
bled his  brother  Mikhai'l,  but  he  resembled  him  as 
a  budding  rose-bush  resembles  one  that  is  out  of 
flower.  His  hair  was  chestnut  also,  but  it  was 
thick  and  lay  in  curls  on  his  temples.  On  the 
soft  white  back  of  his  neck  there  was  a  blond 
lock  ;  a  sign  of  good  luck,  so  the  nurses  say.  The 
full-blooded  crimson  of  youth  did  not  stand  fixed 
on  the  soft,  white  hue  of  his  face,  but  flashed  up  and 
betrayed  all  the  movements  of  his  mind.  He  had 
the  same  eyes  as  his  brother,  but  they  were  more 
widely  opened,  and  clearer,  which  appeared  the 
more  peculiar  because  they  were  veiled  frequently 
by  a  slight  moisture.     A  golden  down  was  sprout- 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  147 

ing  on  his  cheeks,  and  over  his  ruddy  lips,  which 
were  often  folded  into  a  shy  smile,  displaying  teeth 
of  dazzling  whiteness.  He  was  a  well  formed  and 
broad-shouldered  fellow,  in  unbuttoned  coat,  from 
beneath  which  was  visible  a  red  shirt  with  collar 
turned  back.  As  he  stood  before  his  brother, 
leaning  his  elbows  on  the  railing  of  the  porch, 
with  cigarette  in  hand  and  innocent  joy  in  his  face 
and  gesture,  he  was  so  agreeable  and  comely  a 
youth  that  any  one  would  have  gazed  at  him 
with  delight.  He  was  extremely  pleased  with  his 
brother,  he  looked  at  him  with  respect  and  pride, 
fancying  him  his  hero  ;  but  in  some  ways,  so  far 
as  judgments  on  worldly  culture,  ability  to  talk 
French,  behavior  in  the  society  of  distinguished 
people,  dancing,  and  so  on,  he  was  somewhat 
ashamed  of  him,  looked  down  on  him,  and  even 
cherished  a  hope  of  improving  him  if  such  a  thing 
were  possible. 

All  his  impressions,  so  far,  were  from  Peters- 
burg, at  the  house  of  a  lady  who  was  fond  of  good- 
looking  young  fellows,  and  who  had  had  him  spend 
his  holidays  with  her,  and  from  Moscow,  at  the 
house  of  a  senator,  where  he  had  once  danced  at 
a  erreat  ball. 


148  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


VI. 

Having  nearly  talked  their  fill  and  having 
arrived  at  the  feeling  that  you  frequently  experi- 
ence, that  there  is  little  in  common  between  you, 
though  you  love  one  another,  the  brothers  were 
silent  for  a  few  moments. 

"  Pick  up  your  things  and  we  will  set  out  at 
once,"  said  the  elder. 

The  younger  suddenly  blushed,  stammered,  and 
became  confused. 

"  Are  we  to  go  straight  to  Sevastopol } "  he 
inquired,  after  a  momentary  pause. 

"Why,  yes.  You  can't  have  many  things,  and 
we  can  manage  to  carry  them,  I  think." 

"  Very  good  !  we  will  start  at  once,"  said  the 
younger,  with  a  sigh,  and  he  went  inside. 

But  he  paused  in  the  vestibule  without  opening 
the  door,  dropped  his  head  gloomily,  and  began 
to  reflect. 

"  Straight  to  Sevastopol,  on  the  instant,  within 
range  of  the  bombs  —  frightful!     It's  no  matter, 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST,  i^q 

however  ;  it  must  have  come  sometime.  Now,  at 
all  events,  with  my  brother  —  " 
I  The  fact  was  that  it  was  only  now,  at  the 
thought  that,  once  seated  in  the  cart,  he  should 
enter  Sevastopol  without  dismounting  from  it,  and 
that  no  chance  occurrence  could  any  longer  detain 
him,  that  the  danger  which  he  was  seeking  clearly 
presented  itself  to  him,  and  he  was  troubled  at 
the  very  thought  of  its  nearness.  He  managed 
to  control  himself  in  some  way,  and  entered  the 
room  ;  but  a  quarter  of.  an  hour  elapsed,  and  still 
he  had  not  rejoined  his  brother,  so  that  the  latter 
opened  the  door  at  last,  in  order  to  call  him.  The 
younger  Kozeltzoff,  in  the  attitude  of  a  naughty 
school-boy,  was  saying  something  to  an  officer 
named  P.  When  his  brother  opened  the  door,  he 
became  utterly  confused. 

**  Immediately.  I'll  come  out  in  a  minute  ! "  he 
cried,  waving  his  hand  at  his  brother.  "  Wait  for 
me  there,  please." 

A  moment  later  he  emerged,  in  fact,  and  ap- 
proached his  brother,  with  a  deep  sigh. 

"Just  imagine  !  I  cannot  go  with  you,  brother," 
he  said. 

"  What }    What  nonsense  is  this  ? " 


150  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

"  I  will  tell  you  the  whole  truth,  Misha  !  Not 
one  of  us  has  any  money,  and  we  are  all  in  debt 
to  that  staff-captain  whom  you  saw  there.  It  is 
horribly  mortifying ! " 

The  elder  brother  frowned,  and  did  not  break 
the  silence  for  a  long  while. 

**  Do  'you  owe  much  ? "  he  asked,  glancing 
askance  at  his  brother. 

"  A  great  deal  —  no,  not  a  great  deal ;  but  I  am 
dreadfully  ashamed  of  it.  He  has  paid  for  me  for 
three  stages,  and  all  his  sugar  is  gone,  so  that  I  do 
not  know  —  yes,  and  we  played  at  preference.  I 
am  a  little  in  his  debt  there,  too." 

"This  is  bad,  Volodya !  Now,  what  would 
you  have  done  if  you  had  not  met  me  .•*  " 
said  the  elder,  sternly,  without  looking  at  his 
brother. 

"  Why,  I  was  thinking,  brother,  that  I  should 
get  that  travelling-money  at  Sevastopol,  and  that 
I  would  give  him  that.  Surely,  that  can  be  done  ; 
and  it  will  be  better  for  me  to  go  with  him  to-mor- 
row." 

The  elder  brother  pulled  out  his  purse,  and,  with 
fingers  that  shook  a  little,  he  took  out  two  ten- 
ruble  notes  and  one  for  three  rubles. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST,  151 

"  This  is  all  the  money  I  have,"  said  he.  "  How 
much  do  you  owe  ?  " 

Kozeltzoff  did  not  speak  the  exact  truth  when 
he  said  that  this  was  all  the  money  he  had.  He 
had,  besides,  four  gold  pieces  sewn  into  his  cuff, 
in  case  of  an  emergency  ;  but  he  had  taken  a  vow 
not  to  touch  them. 

It  appeared  that  Kozeltzoff,  what  with  prefer- 
ence and  sugar,  was  in  debt  to  the  amount  of 
eight  rubles  only.  The  elder  brother  gave  him 
this  sum,  merely  remarking  that  one  should  not 
play  preference  when  one  had  no  money. 

"  What  did  you  play  for  } " 

The  younger  brother  .answered  not  a  word.  His 
brother's  question  seemed  to  him  to  cast  a  reflec- 
tion on  his  honor.  Vexation  at  himself,  a  shame 
at  his  conduct,  which  could  give  rise  to  such  a 
suspicion,  and  the  insult  from  his  brother,  of 
whom  he  was  so  fond,  produced  upon  his  sensi- 
tive nature  so  deeply  painful  an  impression  that 
he  made  no  reply.  Sensible  that  he  was  not  in 
a  condition  to  restrain  the  sobs  which  rose  in  his 
throat,  he  took  the  money  without  glancing  at  it, 
and  went  back  to  his  comrades. 


152  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


VII. 

Nikolaeff,  who  had  fortified  himself  at  Du- 
vanka,  with  two  jugs  of  vodka,  purchased  from  a 
soldier  who  was  peddling  it  on  the  bridge,  gave 
the  reins  a  jerk,  and  the  team  jolted  away  over 
the  stony  road,  shaded  here  and  there,  which  led 
along  the  Belbek  to  Sevastopol ;  but  the  brothers, 
whose  legs  jostled  each  other,  maintained  a  stub- 
born silence,  although  they  were  thinking  of  each 
other  every  instant. 

*'  Why  did  he  insult  me  ?  "  thought  the  younger. 
"  Could  he  not  have  held  his  tongue  about  that  .? 
It  is  exactly  as  though  he  thought  that  I  was  a 
thief;  yes,  and  now  he  is  angry,  apparently,  so 
that  we  have  quarrelled  for  good.  And  how  splen- 
did it  would  have  been  for  us  to  be  together  in 
Sevastopol.  Two  brothers,  on  friendly  terms,  both 
fighting  the  foe  !  one  of  them,  the  elder,  though 
not  very  cultivated,  yet  a  valiant  warrior,  and  the 
other  younger,  but  a  brave  fellow  too.  In  a 
week's   time    I  would   have  showed  them  that  I 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  153 

am  not  such  a  youngster  after  all !  I  shall  cease 
to  blush,  there  will  be  manliness  in  my  counte- 
nance, and,  though  my  moustache  is  not  very  large 
now,  it  would  grow  to  a  good  size  by  that  time  ;  " 
and  he  felt  of  the  down  which  was  making  its 
appearance  round  the  edges  of  his  mouth.  "  Per- 
haps we  shall  arrive  to-day,  and  get  directly  into 
the  conflict,  my  brother  and  I.  He  must  be  obsti- 
nate and  very  brave,  one  of  those  who  do  not  say 
much,  but  act  better  than  others.  I  should  like 
to  know,"  he  continued,  "  whether  he  is  squeezing 
me  against  the  side  of  the  wagon  on  purpose  or 
not.  He  probably  is  conscious  that  I  feel  awk- 
ward, and  he  is  pretending  not  to  notice  me.  We 
shall  arrive  to-day,"  he  went  on  with  his  argument, 
pressing  close  to  the  side  of  the  wagon,  and  fear- 
ing to  move  lest  his  brother  should  observe  that 
he  was  uncomfortable,  "  and,  all  at  once,  we  shall 
go  straight  to  the  bastion.  We  shall  both  go 
together,  I  with  my  equipments,  and  my  brother 
with  his  company.  All  of  a  sudden,  the  French 
throw  themselves  on  us.  I  begin  to  fire,  and  fire 
on  them.  I  kill  a  terrible  number ;  but  they  still 
continue  to  run  straight  at  me.  Now,  it  is  im- 
possible to  fire  any  longer,  and  there  is  no  hope 


154  SEVASTOPOL  IJSfi  AUGUST. 

,  for  me ;  all  at  once  my  brother  rushes  out  in 
front  with  his  sword,  and  I  grasp  my  gun,  and 
we  rush  on  with  the  soldiers.  The  French  throw 
themselves  on  my  brother.  I  hasten  up ;  I  kill 
one  Frenchman,  then  another,  and  I  save  my 
brother.  I  am  wounded  in  one  arm  ;  I  seize  my 
gun  with  the  other,  and  continue  my  flight ;  but 
my  brother  is  slain  by  my  side  by  the  bullets.  I 
halt  for  a  mpment,  and  gaze  at  him  so  sorrow- 
fully ;  then  I  straighten  myself  up  and  shout  : 
*  Follow  me  !  We  will  avenge  him  !  I  loved  my 
brother  more  than  any  one  in  the  world,'  I  shall 
say,  'and  I  have  lost  him.  Let  us  avenge  him! 
Let  us  annihilate  the  foe,  or  let  us  all  die  together 
there  ! '  All  shout,  and  fling  themselves  after  me. 
Then  the*  whole  French  army  makes  a  sortie,  in- 
cluding even  Pelissier  himself.  We  all  fight ;  but, 
at  last,  I  am  wounded  a  second,  a  third  time,  and 
I  fall,  nearly  dead.  Then,  all  rush  up  to  me. 
Gortchakoff  comes  up  and  asks  what  I  would 
like.  I  say  that  I  want  nothing  —  except  that 
I  may  be  laid  beside  my  brother ;  that  I  wish 
to  die  with  him.  They  carry  me,  and  lay  me 
down  by  the  side  of  my  brother's  bloody  corpse. 
Then    I   shall    raise    myself,    and    merely    say  : 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  155 

*Yes,  you  did  not  understand  how  to  value  two 
men  who  really  loved  their  father-land  ;  now  they 
have  both  fallen, — and  may  God  forgive  you!* 
and  I  shall  die. 

Who  knows  in  what  measure  these  dreams  will 
be  realized  ? 

*'  Have  you  ever  been  in  a  hand  to  hand 
fight  ? "  he  suddenly  inquired  of  his  brother, 
quite  forgetting  that  he  had  not  meant  to  speak 
to  him. 

"  No,  not  once,"  answered  the  elder.  "  Our 
regiment  has  lost  two  thousand  men,  all  on  the 
works ;  and  I,  also,  was  wounded  there.  War  is 
not  carried  on  in  the  least  as  you  fancy,  Volodya." 

The  word  "Volodya"  touched  the  younger 
brother.  He  wanted  to  come  to  an  explanation 
with  his  brother,  who  had  not  the  least  idea  that 
he  had  offended  Volodya. 

"You  are  not  angry  with*  me,  Misha  .>*  "  he  said, 
after  a  momentary  silence. 

"  What  about .?  " 

"  No,  because  —  because  we  had  such  a  — 
nothing." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  replied  the  elder,  turning  to 
him,  and  slapping  him  on  the  leg. 


1^6  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

"  Then  forgive  me,  Misha,  if  I  have  wounded 
you." 

And  the  younger  brother  turned  aside,  in  order 
to  hide  the  tears  that  suddenly  started  to  his 
eyies. 


SE  VASTOPOL  IN  A  UG US T. 


157 


VIII. 

"  Is  this  Sevastopol  already  ?  "  asked  the 
younger  brother,  as  they  ascended  the  hill. 

And  before  them  appeared  the  bay,  with  its 
masts  of  ships,  its  shipping,  and  the  sea,  with 
the  hostile  fleet,  in  the  distance  ;  the  white  bat- 
teries on  the  shore,  the  barracks,  the  aque- 
ducts, the  docks  and  the  buildings  of  the  town, 
and  the  white  and  lilac  clouds  of  smoke  rising 
incessantly  over  the  yellow  hills,  which  sur- 
rounded the  town  and  stood  out  against  the  blue 
sky,  in  the  rosy  rays  of  the  sun,  which  was 
reflected  by  the  waves,  and  sinking  towards  the 
horizon  of  the  shadowy  sea. 

-  Volodya,  without  a  shudder,  gazed  upon  this  ter- 
rible place  of  which  he  had  thought  so  much  ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  did  so  with  an  aesthetic  enjoy- 
ment, and  a  heroic  sense  of  self-satisfaction  at 
the  idea  that  here  he  was  —  he  would  be  there 
in  another  half-hour,  that  he  would  behold  that 
really    charmingly    original    spectacle  —  and    he 


158  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

Stared  with  concentrated  attention  from  that  mo- 
ment until  they  arrived  at  the  north  fortification, 
at  the  baggage-train  of  his  brother's  regiment, 
where  they  were  to  ascertain  with  certainty  the 
situations  of  the  regiment  and  the  battery. 

The  officer  in  charge  of  the  train  Hved  near  the 
so-called  new  town  (huts  built  of  boards  by  the 
sailors'  families),  in  a  tent,  connecting  with  a 
tolerably  large  shed,  constructed  out  of  green  oak- 
boughs,  that  were  not  yet  entirely  withered. 

The  brothers  found  the  officer  seated  before  a 
greasy  table,  upon  which  stood  a  glass  of  cold  tea, 
a  tray  with  vodka,  crumbs  of  dry  sturgeon  roe, 
and  bread,  clad  only  in  a  shirt  of  a  dirty  yellow 
hue,  and  engaged  in  counting  a  huge  pile  of  bank- 
bills  on  a  large  abacus. 

But  before  describing  the  personality  of  the 
officer,  and  his  conversation,  it  is  indispensable 
that  we  should  inspect  with  more  attention  the 
interior  of  his  shed,  and  become  a  little  acquainted, 
at  least,  with  his  mode  of  life  and  his  occupa- 
tions. The  new  shed,  like  those  built  for  generals 
and  regimental  commanders,  was  large,  closely 
wattled,  and  comfortably  arranged,  with  little 
tables  and  benches,  made  of  turf.     The  sides  and 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


159 


roof  were  hung  with  three  rugs,  to  keep  the  leaves 
from  showering  down,  and,  though  extremely  ugly, 
they  were  new,  and  certainly  costly. 

Upon  the  iron  bed,  which  stood  beneath  the 
principal  rug,  with  a  young  amazon  depicted  on 
it,  lay  a  plush  coverlet,  of  a  brilliant  crimson, 
a  torn  and  dirty  pillow,  and  a  raccoon  cloak. 
On  the  table  stood  a  mirror,  in  a  silver  frame, 
a  silver  brush,  frightfully  dirty,  a  broken  horn 
comb,  full  of  greasy  hair,  a  silver  candlestick, 
a  bottle  of  liqueur,  with  a  huge  gold  and '  red 
label,  a  gold  watch,  with  a  portrait  of  Peter  I., 
two  gold  pens,  a  small  box,  containing  pills  of 
some  sort,  a  crust  of  bread,  and  some  old,  cast- 
away cards,  and  there  were  bottles,  both  full  and 
empty,  under  the  bed. 

This  officer  had  charge  of  the  commissariat  of 
the  regiment  and  the  fodder  of  the  horses.  With 
him  lived  his  great  friend,  the  commissioner  who 
had  charge  of  the  operations. 

At  the  moment  when  the  brothers  entered, 
the  latter  was  asleep  in  the  booth,  and  the  com- 
missary officer  was  making  up  his  accounts  of  the 
government  money,  in  anticipation  of  the  end 
of   the   month.      The   commissary  officer   had   a 


l6o  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

very  comely  and  warlike  exterior.  His  stature 
was  tall,  his  moustache  huge,  and  he  possessed 
a  respectable  amount  of  plumpness.  The  only 
disagreeable  points  about  him  were  a  certain  per- 
spiration and  puffiness  of  the  whole  face,  which 
almost  concealed  his  small  gray  eyes  (as  though 
he  was  filled  up  with  porter),  and  an  excessive 
lack  of  cleanliness,  from  his  thin,  greasy  hair  to 
his  big,  bare  feet,  thrust  into  some  sort  of  ermine 
slippers. 

"Money,  money!"  said  Kozeltzoff  number  one, 
entering  the  shed,  and  fixing  his  eyes,  with  invol. 
untary  greed,  upon  the  pile  of  bank-notes.  "You 
might  lend  me  half  of  that,  Vasily  MikhaYlitch  ! " 

The  commissary  officer  cringed  at  the  sight 
of  his  visitors,  and,  sweeping  up  his  money,  he 
bowed  to  them  without  rising. 

"  Oh,  if  it  only  belonged  to  me !  It's  gov- 
ernment money,  my  dear  fellow.  And  who  is 
this  you  have  with  you  t "  said  he,  thrusting 
the  money  into  a  coffer  which  stood  beside  him, 
and  staring  at  Volodya. 

"This  is  my  brother,  who  has  just  come  from 
the  military  academy.  We  have  both  come  to 
learn  from  you  where  our  regiment  is  stationed." 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  i6i 

"  Sit  down,  gentlemen,"  said  the  officer,  rising, 
and  going  into  the  shed,  without  paying  any 
heed  to  his  guests.  "  Won't  you  have  something 
to  drink  ?     Some  porter,  for  instance  ?"  said  he. 

"Don't  put  yourself  out,  Vasily  Mikhailitch." 

Volodya  was  impressed  by  the  size  of  the  com- 
missary officer,  by  his  carelessness  of  manner,  and 
by  the  respect  with  which  his  brother  addressed 
him. 

"  It  must  be  that  this  is  one  of  their  very  fine 
officers,  whom  every  one  respects.  Really,  he  is 
simple,  but  hospitable  and  brave,"  he  thought, 
seating  himself  in  a  timid  and  modest  manner  on 
the  sofa. 

"  Where  is  our  regiment  stationed,  then  .-* " 
called  out  his  elder  brother  into  the  board  hut. 

"  What  ?  " 

He  repeated  his  query. 

"  Zeifer  has  been  here  to-day.  He  told  me  that 
they  had  removed  to  the  fifth  bastion." 

"  Is  that  true  ?  " 

"  If  I  say  so,  it  must  be  true  ;  but  the  deuce 
only  knows  anyway  !  He  would  think  nothing  of 
telling  a  lie.  Won't  you  have  some  porter }  "  said 
the  commissary  officer,  still  from  the  tent. 


1 62  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

**  I  will  if  you  please,"  said  Kozeltzoff. 

"And  will  you  have  a  drink,  Osip  Ignatie- 
vitch  ?  "  went  on  the  voice  in  the  tent,  apparently 
addressing  the  sleeping  commiss'ioner.  *'  You 
have  slept  enough  ;  it's  five  o'clock." 

"  Why  do  you  worry  me  ?  I  am  not  asleep," 
answered  a  shrill,  languid  little  voice. 

"  Come,  get  up  !  we  find  it  stupid  without  you." 

And  the  commissary  officer  came  out  to  his 
guests. 

"  Fetch  some  Simferopol  porter  !  "  he  shouted. 

A  servant  entered  the  booth,  with  a  haughty 
expression  of  countenance,  as  it  seemed  to  Vo- 
lodya,  and,  having  jostled  Volodya,  he  drew  forth 
the  porter  from  beneath  the  bench. 

The  bottle  of  porter  was  soon  emptied,  and  the 
conversation  had  proceeded  in  the  same  style  for 
rather  a  long  time  when  the  flap  of  the  tent  flew 
open  and  out  stepped  a  short,  fresh-colored  man, 
in  a  blue  dressing-gown  with  tassels,  in  a  cap  with 
a  red  rim  and  a  cockade.  At  the  moment  of  his 
appearance,  he  was  smoothing  his  small  black 
moustache,  and,  with  his  gaze  fixed  on  the  rugs, 
he  replied  to  the  greetings  of  the  officer  with  a 
barely  perceptible  movement  of  the  shoulders. 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  163 

"  I  will  drink  a  small  glassful  too ! "  said  he, 
seating  himself  by  the  table.  "  What  is  this,  have 
you  come  from  Petersburg,  young  man  ? "  he  said, 
turning  courteously  to  Volodya. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  am  on  my  way  to  Sevastopol." 

"  Did  you  make  the  application  yourself }  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  What  queer  tastes  you  have,  gentlemen  !  I 
do  not  understand  it !  "  continued  the  commis- 
sioner. "  It  strikes  me  that  I  should  be  ready 
just  now  to  travel  on  foot  to  Petersburg,  if  I  could 
get  away.  By  Heavens,  I  am  tired  of  this  cursed 
life  !  " 

"What  is  there  about  it  that  does  not  suit 
you  } "  said  the  elder  Kozeltzoff,  turning  to  him. 
"  You're  the  very  last  person  to  complain  of  life 
here  ! " 

The  commissioner  cast  a  look  upon  him,  and 
then  turned  away. 

"This  danger,  these  privations,  it  is  impossible 
to  get  anything  here,*'  he  continued,  addressing 
Volodya.  "  And  why  you  should  take  such  a 
freak,  gentlemen,  I  really  cannot  understand.  If 
there  were  any  advantages  to  be  derived  from  it, 
but  there  is  nothing  of  the  sort.     It  would  be  a 


164  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

nice  thing,  now,  wouldn't  it,  if  you,  at  your  age, 
were  to  be  left  a  cripple  for  life  ! " 

"  Some  need  the  money,  and  some  serve  for 
honor's  sake ! "  said  the  elder  Kozeltzoff,  in  a  tone 
of  vexation,  joining  the  discussion  once  more. 

"  What's  the  good  of  honor,  when  there's  noth- 
ing to  eat ! "  said  the  commissioner  with  a  scorn- 
ful laugh,  turning  to  the  commissary,  who  also 
laughed  at  this.  "  Give  us  something  from 
'Lucia';  we  will  listen,"  he  said,  pointing  to  the 
music-box.     *'  I  love  it." 

"Well,  is  that  Vasily  Mikhailitch  a  fine  man  > " 
Volodya  asked  his  brother  when  they  emerged,  at 
dusk,  from  the  booth,  and  pursued  their  way  to 
Sevastopol. 

"  Not  at  all ;  but  such  a  niggard  that  it  is  a  per- 
fect terror  !  And  I  can't  bear  the  sight  of  that 
commissioner,  and  I  shall  give  him  a  thrashing 
one  of  these  days." 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 


165 


IX. 

Volodya  was  not  precisely  out  of  sorts  when, 
nearly  at  nightfall,  they  reached  the  great  bridge 
over  the  bay,  but  he  felt  a  certain  heaviness  at  his 
heart.  All  that  he  had  heard  and  seen  was  so 
little  in  consonance  with  the  impressions  which 
had  recently  passed  away ;  the  huge,  light  exami- 
nation hall,  with  its  polished  floor,  the  kind  and 
merry  voices  and  laughter  of  his  comrades,  the 
new  uniform,  his  beloved  tsar,  whom  he  had  been 
accustomed  to  see  for  the  last  seven  years,  and 
who,  when  he  took  leave  of  them,  had  called  them 
his  children,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  —  and  every- 
thing that  he  had  seen  so  little  resembled  his 
very  beautiful,  rainbow-hued,  magnificent  dreams. 

"  Well,  here  we  are  at  last ! "  said  the  elder 
brother,  when  they  arrived  at  the  Mikha'flovsky 
battery,  and  dismounted  from  their  cart.  "  If 
they  let  us  pass  the  bridge,  we  will  go  directly  to 
the  Nikolaevsky  barracks.  You  stay  there  until 
morning,  and  I  yvill  go  to  the  regiment  and  find 


1 66  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

out  where  your  battery  is  stationed,  and  to-morrow 
I  will  come  for  you." 

"  But  why  ?  It  would  be  better  if  we  both 
went  together,"  said  Volodya  ;  ''  I  will  go  to  the 
bastion  with  you.  It  won't  make  any  difference ; 
I  shall  have  to  get  used  to  it.  If  you  go,  then  I 
can  too." 
•    **  Better  not  go." 

"  No,  if  you  please ;  I  do  know,  at  least, 
that  .  .  ." 

*'  My  advice  is,  not  to  go ;  but  if  you 
choose  .  .  ." 

The  sky  was  clear  and  dark  ;  the  stars,  and  the 
fires  of  the  bombs  in  incessant  movement  and  dis- 
charges, were  gleaming  brilliantly  through  the 
gloom.  The  large  white  building  of  the  battery, 
and  the  beginning  of  the  bridge  stood  out  in  the 
darkness.  Literally,  every  second  several  dis- 
charges of  artillery  and  explosions,  following  each 
other  in  quick  succession  or  occurring  simultane- 
ously, shook  the  air  with  increasing  thunder  and 
distinctness.  Through  this  roar,  and  as  though  re- 
peating it,  the  melancholy  dash  of  the  waves  was 
audible.  A  faint  breeze  was  drawing  in  from  the 
sea,  and   the  air  was  heavy  with  moisture.     The 


SEVASTOPOL    IN  AUGUST.  167 

brothers  stepped  upon  the  bridge.  A  soldier  struck 
his  gun  awkwardly  against  his  arm,  and  shouted :  — 

*'  Who  goes  there  ?  " 

"A  soldier." 

"  The  orders  are  not  to  let  any  one  pass  !  " 

"  What  of  that !  We  have  business  !  We  must 
pass ! " 

"  Ask  the  officer." 

The  officer,  who  was  drowsing  as  he  sat  on  an 
anchor,  rose  up  and  gave  the  order  to  let  them 
pass. 

**  You  can  go  that  way,  but  not  this.  Where 
are  you  driving  to,  all  in  a  heap !  "  he  cried  to  the 
transport  wagons  piled  high  with  gabions,  which 
had  clustered  about  the  entrance. 

As  they  descended  to  the  first  pontoon,  the 
brothers  encountered  soldiers  who  were  coming 
thence,  and  talking  loudly. 

"  If  he  has  received  his  ammunition  money, 
then  he  has  squared  his  accounts  in  full  —  that's 
what  it  is  !  " 

"  Eh,  brothers  !  "  said  another  voice,  "  when 
you  get  over  on  the  Severnaya  you  will  see 
the  world,  by  heavens  !  The  air  is  entirely  dif- 
ferent." 


1 68  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

**  You  may  say  more  ! "  said  the  first  speaker. 
"  A  cursed  shell  flew  in  there  the  other  day,  and 
it  tore  the  legs  off  of  two  sailors,  so  that  .  .  ." 

The  brothers  traversed  the  first  pontoon,  while 
waiting  for  the  wagon,  and  halted  on  the  second, 
which  was  already  flooded  with  water  in  parts. 
The  breeze,  which  had  seemed  weak  inland,  was 
very  powerful  here,  and  came  in  gusts  ;  the  bridge 
swayed  to  and  fro,  and  the  waves,  beating  noisily 
against  the  beams,  and  tearing  at  the  cables  and 
anchors,  flooded  the  planks.  At  the  right  the 
gloomily  hostile  sea  roared  and  darkled,  as  it  lay 
separated  by  an  interminable  level  black  line  from 
the  starry  horizon,  which  was  light  gray  in  its 
gleam  ;  lights  flashed  afar  on  the  enemy's  fleet  ; 
on  the  left  towered  the  black  masts  of  one  of  our 
vessels,  and  the  waves  could  be  heard  as  they  beat 
against  her  hull ;  a  steamer  was  visible,  as  it  moved 
noisily  and  swiftly  from  the  Severnaya. 

The  flash  of  a  bomb,  as  it  burst  near  it,  illu- 
minated for  a  moment  the  lofty  heaps  of  gabions 
on  the  deck,  two  men  who  were  standing  on  it, 
and  the  white  foam  and  the  spurts  of  greenish 
waves,  as  the  steamer  ploughed  through  them. 
On  the  edge  of  the  bridge,  with  his  legs  dangling 


m.t 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


169 


in  the  water,  sat  a  man  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  who 
was  repairing  something  connected  with  the 
bridge.  In  front,  over  Sevastopol,  floated  the 
same  fires,  and  the  terrible  sounds  grew  louder 
and  louder.  A  wave  rolled  in  from  the  sea, 
flowed  over  the  right  side  of  the  bridge,  and  wet 
Volodya's  feet ;  two  soldiers  passed  them,  drag- 
ging their  feet  through  the  water.  Something 
suddenly  burst  with  a  crash  and  lighted  up  the 
bridge  ahead  of  them,  the  wagon  driving  over  it, 
and  a  man  on  horseback.  The  splinters  fell  into 
the  waves  with  a  hiss,  and  sent  up  the  water  in 
splashes. 

**Ah,  Mikhaflo  Semyonitch ! "  said  the  rider, 
stopping,  reining  in  his  horse  in  front  of  the 
elder  Kozeltzoff,  "have  you  fully  recovered  al- 
ready } " 

"  As  you  see.     Whither  is  God  taking  you  } " 

"  To  the  Severnaya,  for  cartridges ;  I  am  on  my 
way  to  the  adjutant  of  the  regiment  ...  we  ex- 
pect an  assault  to-morrow,  at  any  hour." 

**  And  where  is  Martzoff  .?  " 

**  He  lost  a  leg  yesterday  ;  he  was  in  the  town, 
asleep  in  his  room.  .  .  .  Perhaps  you  know  it  .^ " 

"  The  regiment  is  in  the  fifth  bastion,  isn't  it }  '* 


1^0  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

"Yes  ;  it  has  taken  the  place  of  the  M reg- 
iment. Go  to  the  field-hospital ;  some  of  our  men 
are  there,  and  they  will  show  you  the  way." 

"  Well,  and  are  my  quarters  on  the  Morskaya 
still  intact.?" 

**  Why,  my  good  fellow,  they  were  smashed 
to  bits  long  ago  by  the  bombs.  You  will  not 
recognize  Sevastopol  now ;  there's  not  a  single 
woman  there  now,  nor  any  inns  nor  music  ;  the 
last  establishment  took  its  departure  yesterday. 
It  has  become  horribly  dismal  there  now.  .  .  . 
Farewell ! " 

And  the  officer  rode  on  his  way  at  a  trot. 

All  at  once,  Volodya  became  terribly  fright- 
ened ;  it  seemed  to  him  as  though  a  cannon-ball 
or  a  splinter  of  bomb  would  fly  in  their  direction, 
and  strike  him  directly  on  the  head.  This  damp 
darkness,  all  these  sounds,  especially  the  angry 
splashing  of  the  waves,  seemed  to  be  saying  to 
him  that  he  ought  not  to  go  any  farther,  that 
nothing  good  awaited  him  yonder,  that  he  would 
never  again  set  foot  on  the  ground  upon  this 
side  of  the  bay,  that  he  must  turn  about  at  once, 
and  flee  somewhere  or  other,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible from   this  terrible    haunt  of   death.      *' But 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  17 j 

perhaps  it  is  too  late  now,  everything  is  settled," 
thought  he,  trembling  partly  at  this  thought  and 
partly  because  the  water  had  soaked  through  his 
boots  and  wet  his  feet. 

Volodya  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  went  a  little 
apart  from  his  brother. 

"  Lord,  will  they  kill  me  —  me  in  particular  ? 
Lord,  have  mercy  on  me ! "  said  he,  in  a  whisper, 
and  he  crossed  himself. 

"  Come,  Volodya,  let  us  go  on  !  "  said  the  elder 
brother,  when  their  litile  c^rt  had  driven  upon 
the  bridge.     "  Did  you  see  that  bomb  ?  " 

On  the  bridge,  the  brothers  met  wagons  filled 
with  the  wounded,  with  gabions,  and  one  loaded 
with  furniture,  which  was  driven  by  a  woman. 
On  the  further  side  no  one  detained  them. 

Clinging  instinctively  to  the  walls  of  the  Niko- 
laevsky  battery,  the  brothers  listened  in  silence  to 
the  noise  of  the  bombs,  exploding  overhead,  and 
to  the  roar  of  the  fragments,  showering  down 
from  above,  and  came  to  that  spot  in  the  bat- 
tery where  the  image  was.  There  they  learned 
that  the  fifth  light  battery,  to  which  Volodya  had 
been  assigned,  was  stationed  on  the  Korabelnaya, 
and  they  decided  that  he  should  go,   in  spite  of 


1^2  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

the  danger,  and  pass  the  night  with  the  elder 
in  the  fifth  bastion,  and  that  he  should  from 
there  join  his  battery  the  next-day.  They  turned 
into  the  corridor,  stepping  over  the  legs  of  the 
sleeping  soldiers,  who  were  lying  all  along  the 
walls  of  the  battery,  and  at  last  they  arrived  at 
the  place  where  the  wounded  were  attended  to. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


173 


X. 

As  they  entered  the  first  room,  surrounded 
with  cots  on  which  lay  the  wounded,  and  perme- 
ated with  that  frightful  and  disgusting  hospital 
odor,  they  met  two  Sisters  of  Mercy,  who  were 
coming  to  meet  them. 

One  woman,  of  fifty,  with  black  eyes,  and  a 
stern  expression  of  countenance,  was  carrying 
bandages  and  lint,  and  was  giving  strict  orders 
to  a  young  fellow,  an  assistant  surgeon,  who  was 
following  her ;  the  other,  a  very  pretty  girl  of 
twenty,  with  a  pale  and  delicate  little  fair  face, 
gazed  in  an  amiably  helpless  way  from  beneath 
her  white  cap,  held  her  hands  in  the  pockets  of 
her  apron,  as  she  walked  beside  the  elder  woman, 
and  seemed  to  be  afraid  to  quit  her  side. 

Kozeltzoff  addressed  to  them  the  question 
whether  they  knew  where  Martzoff  was  —  the 
man  whose  leg  had  been  torn  off  on  the  day 
before. 

*'  He  belonged  to  the  P regiment,  did  he 


174  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

not  ?  "   inquired  the  elder.     **  Is  he  a  relative  of 
yours  ? " 

"No,  a  comrade." 

*'Show  them  the  way,"  said  she,  in  French,  to 
the  young  sister.  "  Here,  this  way,"  and  she 
approached  a  wounded  man,  in  company  with 
the  assistant. 

"  Come  along;  what  are  you  staring  at  }  "  said 
Kozeltzoff  to  Volodya,  who,  with  uplifted  eyebrows 
and  somewhat  suffering  expression  of  counten- 
ance, could  not  tear  himself  away,  but  continued 
to  stare  at  the  wounded.     ''Come,  let  us  go." 

Volodya  went  off  with  his  brother,  still  continu- 
ing to  gaze  about  him,  however,  and  repeating  un- 
consciously :  — 

"  Ah,  my  God  !     Ah,  my  God  !  " 

"  He  has  probably  not  been  here  long } "  in- 
quired the  sister  of  Kozeltzoff,  pointing  at 
Volodya,  who,  groaning  and  sighing,  followed 
them  through  the  corridor. 

"  He  has  but  just  arrived." 

The  pretty  little  sister  glanced  at  Volodya,  and 
suddenly  burst  out  crying.  "  My  God  !  my  God  ! 
when  will  there  be  an  end  to  all  this } "  she  said, 
with  the   accents  of   despair.     They  entered  the 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  ij^ 

officer's  hut.  Martzoff  was  lying  on  his  back, 
with  his  muscular  arms,  bare  to  the  elbow,  thrown 
over  his  head,  and  with  the  expression  on  his  yel- 
low face  of  a  man  who  is  clenching  his  teeth  in 
order  to  keep  from  shrieking  with  pain.  His 
whole  leg,  in  its  stocking,  was  thrust  outside  the 
coverlet,  and  it  could  be  seen  how  he  was  twitch- 
ing his  toes  convulsively  inside  it. 

"Well,  how  goes  it,  how  do  you  feel.'*"  asked 
the  sister,  raising  his  bald  head  with  her  slender, 
delicate  fingers,  on  one  of  which  Volodya  noticed 
a  gold  ring,  and  arranging  his  pillow.  "  Here  are 
some  of  your  comrades  come  to  inquire  after  you.'* 

"  Badly,  of  course,"  he  answered,  angrily. 
"Let  me  alone!  it's  all  right," — the  toes  in  his 
stocking  moved  more  rapidly  than  ever.  "  How 
do  you  do  t  What  is  your  name  .-*  Excuse  me," 
he  said,  turning  to  Kozeltzoff.  ..."  Ah,  yes,  I 
beg  your  pardon  !  one  forgets  everything  here,"  he 
said,  when  the  latter  had  mentioned  his  name. 
"You  and  I  lived  together,"  he  added,  without 
the  slightest  expression  of  pleasure,  glancing  in- 
terrogatively at  Volodya. 

"  This  is«TOy  brother,  who  has  just  arrived  from 
Petersburg  to-day." 


176 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


"  Hm  !  Here  I  have  finished  my  service,"  he 
said,  with  a  frown.  **  Ah,  how  painful  it  is  !  .  .  . 
The  best  thing  would  be  a  speedy  end." 

He  drew  up  his  leg,  and  covered  his  face  with 
his  hands,  continuing  to  move  his  toes  with  re- 
doubled swiftness. 

"You  must  leave  him,"  said  the  sister,  in  a 
whisper,  while  the  tears  stood  in  her  eyes  ;  "  he  is 
in  a  very  bad  state." 

The  brothers  had  already  decided  on  the  north 
side  to  go  to  the  fifth  bastion  ;  but,  on  emerging 
from  the  Nikolaevsky  battery,  they  seemed  to 
have  come  to  a  tacit  understanding  not  to  subject 
themselves  to  unnecessary  danger,  and,  without 
discussing  the  subject,  they  determined  to  go 
their  ways  separately. 

**  Only,  how  are  you  to  find  your  way,  Volodya  }  " 
said  the  elder.  "  However,  Nikolaeff  will  conduct 
you  to  the  Korabelnaya,  and  I  will  go  my  way 
alone,  and  will  be  with  you  to-morrow. 

Nothing  more  was  said  at  this  last  leave-taking 
between  the  'brothers. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


177 


XL 

The  thunder  of  the  cannon  continued  with  the 
same  power  as  before,  but  Yekaterinskaya  street, 
along  which  Volodya  walked,  followed  by  the  taci- 
turn Nikolaeff,  was  quiet  and  deserted.  All  that 
he  could  see,  through  the  thick  darkness,  was  the 
wide  street  with  the  white  walls  of  large  houses, 
battered  in  many  places,  and  the  stone  sidewalk 
beneath  his  feet  ;  now  and  then,  he  met  soldiers 
and  officers.  As  he  passed  along  the  left  side  of 
the  street,  near  the  Admiralty  building,  he  per- 
ceived, by  the  light  of  a  bright  fire  burning  behind 
the  wall,  the  acacias  planted  along  the  sidewalk, 
with  green  guards  beneath,  and  the  wretchedly 
dusty  leaves  of  these  acacias. 

He  could  plainly  hear  his  own  steps  and  those  of 
Nikolaeff,  who  followed  him,  breathing  heavily. 
He  thought  of  nothing ;  the  pretty  little  Sister  of 
Mercy,  Martzoff's  leg  with  the  toes  twitching  in 
its  stocking,  the  bombs,  the  darkness,  and  divers 
pictures  of  death  floated  hazily  through  his  mind. 


1^8  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

All  his  young  and  sensitive  soul  shrank  together, 
and  was  borne  down  by  his  consciousness  of  lone- 
liness, and  the  indifference  of  every  one  to  his  fate 
in  the  midst  of  danger. 

**They  will  kill  me,  I  shall  be  tortured,  I  shall 
suffer,  and  no  one  will  weep."  And  all  this,  in- 
stead of  the  hero's  life,  filled  with  energy  and 
sympathy,  of  which  he  had  cherished  such  glorious 
dreams.  The  bombs  burst  and  shrieked  nearer 
and  ever  nearer.  Nikolaeff  sighed  more  fre- 
quently, without  breaking  the  silence.  On  cross- 
ing the  bridge  leading  to  the  Korabelnaya,  he  saw 
something  fly  screaming  into  the  bay,  not  far  from 
him,  which  lighted  up  the  lilac  waves  for  an  in- 
stant with  a  crimson  glow,  then  disappeared,  and 
threw  on  high  a  cloud  of  foam. 

*'See  there,  it  was  not  put  out  ! "  said  Nikolaeff, 
hoarsely. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Volodya,  involuntarily,  and 
quite  unexpectedly  to  himself,  in  a  thin,  piping 
voice. 

They  encountered  litters  with  wounded  men, 
then  more  regimental  transports  with  gabions; 
they  met  a  regiment  on  Korabelnaya  street ; 
men  on  horseback   passed   them.     One  of   them 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


179 


was  an  officer,  with  his  Cossack.  He  was  riding  at 
a  trot,  but,  on  catching  sight  of  Volodya,  he  reined 
in  his  horse  near  him,  looked  into  his  face,  turned 
and  rode  on,  giving  the  horse  a  blow  of  his  whip. 

"Alone,  alone  ;  it  is  nothing  to  any  one  whether 
I  am  in  existence  or  not,"  thought  the  lad,  and  he 
felt  seriously  inclined  to  cry. 

After  ascending  the  hill,  past  a  high  white  wall, 
he  entered  a  street  of  small  ruined  houses,  inces- 
santly illuminated  by  bombs.  A  drunken  and 
dishevelled  woman,  who  was  coming  out  of  a  small 
door  in  company  with  a  sailor,  ran  against  him. 

"  If  he  were  only  a  fine  man,"  she  grumbled,  — 
"  Pardon,  Your  Honor  the  officer." 

The  poor  boy's  heart  sank  lower  and  lower,  and 
more  and  more  frequently  flashed  the  lightnings 
against  the  dark  horizon,  and  the  bombs  screamed 
and  burst  about  him  with  ever  increasing  fre- 
quency. Nikolaeff  sighed,  and  all  at  once  he 
began  to  speak,  in  what  seemed  to  Volodya  a 
frightened  and  constrained  tone. 

"  What  haste  we  made  to  get  here  from  home. 
It  was  nothing  but  travelling.  A  pretty  place  to 
be  in  a  hurry  to  get  to  ! " 

**  What  was  to  be  done,  if  my  brother  was  well 


l8o  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

again,"  replied  Volodya,  in  hope  that  he  might 
banish  by  conversation  the  frightful  feeling  that 
was  taking  possession  of  him. 

"  Well,  ,what  sort  of  health  is  it  when  he  is  thor- 
oughly ill !  Those  who  are  really  well  had  better 
stay  in  the  hospital  at  such  a  time.  A  vast  deal 
of  joy  there  is  about  it,  isn't  there  }  You  will 
have  a  leg  or  an  arm  torn  off,  and  that's  all  you 
will  get !  It's  not  far  removed  from  a  downright 
sin  !  And  here  in  the  town  it's  not  at  all  like 
the  bastion,  and  that  is  a  perfect  terror.  You 
go  and  you  say  your  prayers  the  whole  way. 
Eh,  you  beast,  there  you  go  whizzing  past !  "  he 
added,  directing  his  attention  to  the  sound  of  a 
splinter  of  shell  whizzing  by  near  them.  "  Now, 
here,"  Nikolaeff  went  on,  "  I  was  ordered  to  show 
Your  Honor  the  way.  My  business,  of  course,  is 
to  do  as  I  am  bid  ;  but  the  cart  has  been  aban- 
doned to  some  wretch  of  a  soldier,  and  the  bundle 
is  undone.  ...  Go  on  and  on  ;  but  if  any  of  the 
property  disappears,  Nikolaeff  will  have  to  answer 
for  it." 

After  proceeding  a  few  steps  further,  they  came 
out  on  a  square.  Nikolaeff  held  his  peace,  but 
sighed. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  igj 

"  Yonder  is  your  artillery,  Your  Honor ! "  he 
suddenly  said.  "Ask  the  sentinel;  he  will 
show  you." 

And  Volodya,  after  he  had  taken  a  few  steps 
more,  ceased  to  hear  the  sound  of  Nikolaeff's 
sighs   behind  him. 

All  at  once,  he  felt  himself  entirely  and  finally 
alone.  This  consciousnes'5  of  solitude  in  danger, 
before  death,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  lay  upon  his 
heart  like  a  terribly  cold  and  heavy  stone. 

He  halted  in  the  middle  of  the  square,  glanced 
about  him,  to  see  whether  he  could  catch  sight  of 
any  one,  grasped  his  head,  and  uttered  his  thought 
aloud  in  his  terror  :  —  "  Lord  !  Can  it  be  that  I 
am  a  coward,  a  vile,  disgusting,  worthless  cow- 
ard .  .  .  can  it  be  that  I  so  lately  dreamed  of  dy- 
ing with  joy  for  my  father-land,  my  tsar.?  No,  I 
am  a  wretched,  an  unfortunate,  a  wretched  being  !  " 
And  Volodya,  with  a  genuine  sentiment  of  despair 
and  disenchantment  with  himself,  inquired  of  the 
sentinel  for  the  house  of  the  commander  of  the 
battery,  and  set  out  in  the  direction  indicated. 


1 82  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 


XII. 

The  residence  of  the  commander  of  the  battery, 
which  the  sentinel  had  pointed  out  to  him,  was  a 
small,  two-story  house,  with  an  entrance  on  the 
court-yard.  In  one  of  the  windows,  which  was 
pasted  over  with  paper,  burned  the  feeble  flame 
of  a  candle.  A  servant  was  seated  on  the  porch, 
smoking  his  pipe ;  he  went  in  and  announced 
Volodya  to  the  commander,  and  then  led  him  in. 
In  the  room,  between  the  two  windows,  and  be- 
neath a  shattered  mirror,  stood  a  table,  heaped 
with  official  documents,  several  chairs,  and  an  iron 
bedstead,  with  a  clean  pallet,  and  a  small  bed-rug 
by  its  side. 

Near  the  door  stood  a  handsome  man,  with  a 
large  moustache,  —  a  sergeant,  in  sabre  and  cloak, 
on  the  latter  of  which  hung  a  cross  and  a  Hunga- 
rian medal.  Back  and  forth  in  the  middle  of  the 
room  paced  a  short  staff-officer  of  forty,  with 
swollen  cheeks  bound  up,  and  dressed  in  a  thin 
old  coat. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  183 

"I  have  the  honor  to  report  myself,  Cornet 
Kozeltzoff,  2d,  ordered  to  the  fifth  light  battery," 
said  Volodya,  uttering  the  phrase  which  he  had 
learned  by  heart,  as  he  entered  the  room. 

The  commander  of  the  battery  responded  dryly 
to  his  greeting,  and,  without  offering  his  hand, 
invited  him  to  be  seated. 

Volodya  dropped  timidly  into  a  chair,  beside  the 
writing-table,  and  began  to  twist  in  his  fingers  the 
scissors,  which  his  hand  happened  to  light  upon. 
The  commander  of  the  battery  put  his  hands 
behind  his  back,  and,  dropping  his  head,  pursued 
his  walk  up  and  down  the  room,  ia  silence,  only 
bestowing  an  occasional  glance  at  the  hands  which 
were  twirling  the  scissors,  with  the  aspect  of  a 
man  who  is  trying  to  recall  something. 

The  battery  commander  was  a  rather  stout  man, 
with  a  large  bald  spot  on  the  crown  of  his  head,  a 
thick  moustache,  which  drooped  straight  down  and 
concealed  his  mouth,  and  pleasant  brown  eyes. 
His  hands  were  handsome,  clean,  and  plump ;  his 
feet  small  and  well  turned,  and  they  stepped  out 
in  a  confident  and  rather  dandified  manner,  prov- 
ing that  the  commander  was  not  a  timid  man. 

**  Yes,"  he  said,  coming  to  a  halt  in  front  of  the 


1 84  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

sergeant ;  "  a  measure  must  be  added  to  the  grain 
to-morrow,  or  our  horses  will  be  getting  thin. 
What  do  you  think?" 

"Of  course,  it  is  possible  to  do  so,  Your  Ex- 
cellency! Oats  are  very  cheap  just  now,"  replied 
the  sergeant,  twitching  his  fingers,  which  he 
held  on  the  seams  of  his  trousers,  but  which 
evidently  liked  to  assist  in  the  conversation. 
**  Our  forage-master,  Franchuk,  sent  me  a  note 
yesterday,  from  the  transports.  Your  Excellency, 
saying  that  we  should  certainly  be  obliged  to  pur- 
chase oats  ;  they  say  they  are  cheap.  Therefore, 
what  are  your  orders  } " 

"To  buy,  of  course.  He  has  money,  surely." 
And  the  commander  resumed  his  tramp  through 
the  room.  "And  where  are  your  things.-*"  he 
suddenly  inquired  of  Volodya,  as  he  paused  in 
front  of  him. 

Poor  Volodya  was  so  overwhelmed  by  the  thought 
that  he  was  a  coward,  that  he  espied  scorn  for 
himself  in  every  glance,  in  every  word,  as  though 
they  had  been  addressed  to  a  pitiable  poltroon. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  the  commander  of  the  bat- 
tery had  already  divined  his  secret,  and  was  mak- 
ing sport  of  him.     He  answered,  with  embarrass- 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST,  185 

ment,  that  his  effects  were  on  the  Grafskaya,  and 
that  his  brother  had  promised  to  send  them  to 
him  on  the   morrow. 

But  the  lieutenant-colonel  was  not  listening  to 
him,  and,  turning  to  the  sergeant,  he  inquired  :  — 

"  Where  are  we  to  put  the  ensign  ? " 

"  The  ensign,  sir  ? "  said  the  sergeant,  throwing 
Volodya  into  still  greater  confusion  by  the  fleeting 
glance  which  he  cast  upon  him,  and  which  seemed 
to  say,  **  What  sort  of  an  ensign  is  this  ?  "  —  "  He 
can  be  quartered  downstairs,  with  the  staff-cap- 
tain, Your  Excellency,"  he  continued,  after  a  little 
reflection.  "The  captain  is  at  the  bastion  just 
now,  and  his  cot  is  empty." 

"  Will  that  not  suit  you,  temporarily } "  said  the 
commander.  —  "I  think  you  must  be  tired,  but  we 
will  lodge  you  better  to-morrow." 

Volodya  rose  and  bowed. 

"  Will  you  not  have  some  tea  >  "  said  the  com- 
mander, when  he  had  already  reached  the  door. 
**The  samovar  can  be  brought  in." 

Volodya  saluted  and  left  the  room.  The  lieuten- 
ant-colonel's servant  conducted  him  downstairs, 
and  led  him  into  a  bare,  dirty  chamber,  in  which 
various  sorts   of  rubbish   were  lying    about,  and 


1 86  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST, 

where  there  was  an  iron  bedstead  without  either 
sheets  or  coverlet.  A  man  in  a  red  shirt  was  fast 
asleep  on  the  bed,  covered  over  with  a  thick  cloak. 

Volodya  took  him  for  a  soldier. 

"  Piotr  Nikolaitch  !  "  said  the  servant,  touching 
the  sleeper  on  the  shoulder.  "  The  ensign  is  to 
sleep  here.  .  .  .  This  is  our  yunker,"  he  add- 
ed, turning  to  the  ensign. 

"  Ah,  don't  trouble  him,  please,"  said  Volodya  ; 
but  the  yunker,  a  tall,  stout,  young  man,  with  a 
handsome  but  very  stupid  face,  rose  from  the  bed, 
threw  on  his  cloak,  and,  evidently  not  having  had 
a  good  sleep,  left  the  room. 

"No  matter;  I'll  lie  down  in  the  yard,"  he 
growled  out. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  187 


XIII. 

Left  alone  with  his  own  thoughts,  Volodya's 
first  sensation  was  a  fear  of  the  incoherent,  for- 
lorn state  of  his  own  soul.  He  wanted  to  go  to 
sleep,  and  forget  all  his  surroundings,  and  himself 
most  of  all.  He  extinguished  the  candle,  lay 
down  on  the  bed,  and,  taking  off  his  coat,  he 
wrapped  his  head  up  in  it,  in  order  to  relieve  his 
terror  of  the  darkness,  with  which  he  had  been 
afflicted  since  his  childhood.  But  all  at  once  the 
thought  occurred  to  him  that  a  bomb  might  come 
and  crush  in  the  roof  and  kill  him.  He  began  to 
listen  attentively  ;  directly 'overhead,  he  heard  the 
footsteps  of  the  battery  commander. 

"Anyway,  if  it  does  come,"  he  thought,  "it  will 
kill  any  one  who  is  upstairs  first,  and  then  me  ;  at 
all  events,  I  shall  not  be  the  only  one." 
*  This  thought  calmed  him  somewhat. 

"  Well,  and  what  if  Sevastopol  should  be  taken 
unexpectedly,  in  the  night,  and  the  French  make 


1 88  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

their  way  hither  ?  What  am  I  to  defend  myself 
with  ?  " 

He  rose  once  more,  and  began  to  pace  the 
room.  His  terror  of  the  actual  danger  out- 
weighed his  secret  fear  of  the  darkness.  There 
was  nothing  heavy  in  the  room  except  the  samo- 
var and  a  saddle.  "  I  am  a  scoundrel,  a  coward, 
a  miserable  coward  !  "  the  thought  suddenly 
occurred  to  him,  and  again  he  experienced  that 
oppressive  sensation  of  scorn  and  disgust,  even 
for  himself.  Again  he  threw  himself  on  the 
bed,  and  tried  not  to  think. 

Then  the  impressions  of  the  day  involuntarily 
penetrated  his  imagination,  in  consequence  of  the 
unceasing  sounds,  which  made  the  glass  in  the 
solitary  window  rattle,  and  again  the  thought  of 
danger  recurred  to  him  :  now  he  saw  visions  of 
wounded  men  and  blood,  now  of  bombs  and  splin- 
ters, flying  into  the  room,  then  of  the  pretty  little 
Sister  of  Mercy,  who  was  applying  a  bandage  to 
him,  a  dying  man,  and  weeping  over  him,  then  of 
his  mother,  accompanying  him  to  the  provincial 
town,  and  praying,  amid  burning  tears,  before  the 
wonder-working  images,  and  once  more  sleep  ap- 
peared an  impossibility  to  him. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST, 


189 


But  suddenly  the  thought  of  Almighty  God, 
who  can  do  all  things,  and  who  hears  every  sup- 
plication, came  clearly  into  his  mind.  He  knelt 
down,  crossed  himself,  and  folded  his  hands  as 
he  had  been  taught  to  do  in  his  childhood,  when 
he  prayed.  This  gesture,  all  at  once,  brought 
back  to  him  a  consoling  feeling,  which  he  had 
long  since  forgotten. 

"  If  I  must  die,  if  I  must  cease  to  exist,  *  thy 
will  be  done,  Lord,' "  he  thought ;  "  let  it  be 
quickly ;  but  if  bravery  is  needed,  and  the  firm- 
ness which  I  do  not  possess,  give  them  to  me ; 
deliver  me  from  shame  and  disgrace,  which  I  can- 
not bear,  but  teach  me  what  to  do  in  order  to 
fulfil  thy  will." 

His  childish,  frightened,  narrow  soul  was  sud- 
denly encouraged  ;  it  cleared  up,  and  caught  sight 
of  broad,  brilliant,  and  new  horizons.  During  the 
brief  period  while  this  feeling  lasted,  he  felt  and 
thought  many  other  things,  and  soon  fell  asleep 
quietly  and  unconcernedly,  to  the  continuous 
sounds  of  the  roar  of  the  bombardment  and  the 
rattling  of  the  window-panes. 

Great  Lord  !  thou  alone  hast  heard,  and  thou 
alone  knowest  those  ardent,  despairing  prayers  of , 


igo  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

ignorance,  of  troubled  repentance,  those  petitions 
for  the  healing  of  the  body  and  the  enlightenment 
of  the  mind,  which  have  ascended  to  thee  from 
that  terrible  precinct  of  death,  from  the  general 
who,  a  moment  before,  was  thinking  of  his  cross 
of  the  George  on  his  neck,  and  conscious  in  his 
terror  of  thy  near  presence,  to  the  simple  soldier 
writhing  on  the  bare  earth  of  the  Nikolaevsky  bat- 
tery, and  beseeching  thee  to  bestow  upon  him 
there  the  reward,  unconsciously  presaged,  for  all 
his  sufferings. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


191 


XIV. 

The  elder  Kozeltzoff,  meeting  on  the  street  a 
soldier  belonging  to  his  regiment,  betook  himself 
at  once,  in  company  with  the  man,  to  the  fifth 
bastion. 

"  Keep  under  the  wall.  Your  Honor,"  said  the 
soldier. 

*'  What  for  } " 

*'  It's  dangerous,  Your  Honor  ;  there's  one  pass- 
ing over,"  said  the  soldier,  listening  to  the  sound 
of  a  screaming  cannon-ball,  which  struck  the  dry 
road,  on  the  other  side  of  the  street. 

Kozeltzoff,  paying  no  heed  to  the  soldier,  walked 
bravely  along  the  middle  of  the  street. 

These  were  the  same  streets,  the  same  fires, 
even  more  frequent  now,  the  sounds,  the  groans, 
the  encounters  with  the  wounded,  and  the  same 
batteries,  breastworks,  and  trenches,  which  had 
been  there  in  the  spring,  when  he  was  last  in 
Sevastopol  ;  but,  for  some  reason,  all  this  was  now 
more  melancholy,  and,  at  the  same  time,  more  en- 


192  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

ergetic,  the  apertures  in  the  houses  were  larger, 
there  were  no  longer  any  lights  in  the  windows, 
with  the  exception  of  the  Kushtchin  house  (the 
hospital),  not  a  woman  was  to  be  met  with,  the 
earlier  tone  of  custom  and  freedom  from  care  no 
longer  rested  over  all,  but,  instead,  a  certain  im- 
press of  heavy  expectation,  of  weariness  and  ear- 
nestness. 

But  here  is  the  last  trench  already,  and  here  is  the 

voice  of  a  soldier  of  the  P regiment,  who  has 

recognized  the  former  commander  of  his  company, 
and  here  stands  the  third  battalion  in  the  gloom, 
clinging  close  to  the  wall,  and  lighted  up  now  and 
then,  for  a  moment,  by  the  discharges,  and  a  sound 
of  subdued  conversation,  and  the  rattling  of  guns. 

"Where  is  the  commander  of  the  regiment.'*" 
inquired  Kozeltzoff. 

"  In  the  bomb-proofs  with  the  sailors.  Your 
Honor,"  replied  the  soldier,  ready  to  be  of  ser- 
vice.    "  I  will  show  you  the  way,  if  you  like." 

From  trench  to  trench  the  soldier  led  Kozel- 
tzoff, to  the  small  ditch  in  the  trench.  In  the 
ditch  sat  a  sailor,  smoking  his  pipe ;  behind  him 
a  door  was  visible,  through  whose  cracks  shone  a 
light. 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  ic)3 

"  Can  I  enter  ?  " 

"  I  will  announce  you  at  once,"  and  the  sailor 
went  in  through  the  door. 

Two  voices  became  audible  on  the  other  side  of 
the  door. 

"  If  Prussia  continues  to  observe  neutrality," 
said  one  voice,  *'  then  Austria  also  .  .  ." 

"  What  difference  does  Austria  make,"  said  the 
second,  "  when  the  Slavic  lands  .  .  .  well,  ask 
him  to  come   in." 

Kozeltzoff  had  never  been  in  this  casemate. 
He  was  struck  by  its  elegance.  The  floor  was  of 
polished  wood,  screens  shielded  the  door.  Two 
bedsteads  stood  against  the  wall,  in  one  corner 
stood  a  large  ikon  of  the  mother  of  God,  in  a  gilt 
frame,  and  before  her  burned  a  rose-colored  lamp. 

On  one  of  the  beds,  a  naval  officer,  fully 
dressed,  was  sleeping.  On  the  other,  by  a  table 
upon  which  stood  two  bottles  of  wine,  partly 
empty,  sat  the  men  who  were  talking  —  the  new 
regimental  commander  and  his  adjutant. 

Although  Kozeltzoff  was  far  from  being  a  cow- 
ard, and  was  certainly  not  guilty  of  any  wrong- 
doing so  far  as  his  superior  officers  were  con- 
cerned, nor  towards  the  regimental  commander, 


194  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

yet  he  felt  timid  before  the  colonel,  who  had 
been  his  comrade  not  long  before,  so  proudly  did 
this  colonel  rise  and  listen  to  him. 

*'  It  is  strange,"  thought  Kozeltzoff,  as  he  sur- 
veyed his  commander,  ''it  is  only  seven  weeks 
since  he  took  the  regiment,  and  how  visible 
already  is  his  power  as  regimental  commander,  in 
everything  about  him — in  his  dress,  his  bearing, 
his  look.  Is  it  so  very  long,"  thought  he,  "since 
this  Batrishtcheff  used  to  carouse  with  us,  and  he 
wore  a  cheap  cotton  shirt,  and  ate  by  himself, 
never  inviting  any  one  to  his  quarters,  his  eternal 
meat-balls  and  curd-patties  .^  But  now!  and  that 
expression  of  cold  pride  in  his  eyes,  which  says 
to  you,  *  Though  I  am  your  comrade,  because  I  am 
a  regimental  commander  of  the  new  school,  yet, 
believe  me,  I  am  well  aware  that  you  would  give 
half  your  life  merely  for  the  sake  of  being  in  my 
place ! '  " 

''  You  have  been  a  long  time  in  recovering,"  said 
the  colonel  to  Kozeltzoff,  coldly,  with  a  stare. 

"  I  was  ill,  colonel !  The  wound  has  not  closed 
well  even  now." 

*'  Then  there  was  no  use  in  your  coming,"  said 
the  colonel,  casting  an  incredulous  glance  at  the 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  jq^ 

captain's  stout  figure.  *' You  are,  nevertheless, 
in  a  condition  to  fulfil  your  duty  ? " 

"Certainly  I  am,  sir." 

"  Well  I'm  very  glad  of  that,  sir.  You  will  take 
the  ninth  company  from  Ensign  Zaitzoff  —  the  one 
you  had  before ;  you  will  receive  your  orders 
immediately." 

"  I  obey,  sir," 

"Take  care  to  send  me  the  regimental  adjutant 
when  you  arrive,"  said  the  regimental  commander, 
giving  him  to  understand,  by  a  slight  nod,  that  his 
audience  was  at  an  end. 

On  emerging  from  the  casemate,  Kozeltzoff 
muttered  something  several  times,  and  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  as  though  pained,  embarrassed,  or 
vexed  at  something,  and  vexed,  not  at  the  regi- 
mental commander  (there  was  no  cause  for  that), 
but  at  himself,  and  he  appeared  to  be  dissatisfied 
with  himself  and  with  everything  about  him. 


196 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


XV. 

Before  going  to  his  officers,  Kozeltzoff  went  to 
greet  his  company,  and  to  see  where  it  was  sta- 
tioned. 

The  breastwork  of  gabions,  the  shapes  of  the 
trenches,  the  cannons  which  he  passed,  even 
the  fragments  of  shot,  bombs,  over  which  he 
stumbled  in  his  path  —  all  this,  incessantly  illu- 
minated by  the  light  of  the  firing,  was  well  known 
to  him,  all  this  had  engraved  itself  in  vivid  colors 
on  his  memory,  three  months  before,  during' 
the  two  weeks  which  he  had  spent  in  this  very 
bastion,  without  once  leaving  it.  Although  there 
was  much  that  was  terrible  in  these  reminiscences, 
a  certain  charm  of  past  things  was  mingled  with  it, 
and  he  recognized  the  familiar  places  and  objects 
with  pleasure,  as  though  the  two  weeks  spent 
there  had  been  agreeable  ones.  The  company 
was  stationed  along,  the  defensive  wall  toward 
the  sixth  bastion. 

Kozeltzoff  entered  the  long  casemate,  utterly  un- 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 


197 


protected  at  the  entrance  side,  in  which  they  had 
told  him  that  the  ninth  company  was  stationed. 
There  was,  literally,  no  room  to  set  his  foot  in  the 
casemate,  so  filled  was  it,  from  the  very  entrance, 
with  soldiers.  On  one  side  burned  a  crooked  tal- 
low candle,  which  a  recumbent  soldier  was  holding 
to  illuminate  the  book  which  another  one  was 
spelling  out  slowly.  Around  the  candle,  in  the 
reeking  half-light,  heads  were  visible,  eagerly 
raised  in  strained  attention  to  the  reader.  The 
little  book  in  question  was  a  primer.  As  Kozel- 
tzoff  entered  the  casemate,  he  heard  the  following  : 

*'  Pray-er  af-ter  lear-ning.  I  thank  Thee, 
Crea-tor  ..." 

"Snuff  that  candle  !  "  said  a  voice.  "That's  a 
splendid  book."  "My  .  .  .  God  .  .  ."  went  on 
the   reader. 

When  Kozeltzoff  asked  for  the  sergeant,  the 
reader  stopped,  the  soldiers  began  to  move  about, 
coughed,  and  blew  their  noses,  as  they  always  do 
after  enforced  silence.  The  sergeant  rose  near 
the  group  about  the  reader,  buttoning  up  his 
coat  as  he  did  so,  and  stepping  over  and  on  the 
feet  of  those  who  had  no  room  to  withdraw  them, 
and  came  forward  to  his  officer. 


Iq8  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

"  How  are  you,  brother  ?  Do  all  these  belong 
to  our  company  ?  " 

"  I  wish  you  health  !  Welcome  on  your  return, 
Your  Honor!"  repUed  the  sergeant,  with  a  cheer- 
ful and  friendly  look  at  Kozeltzoff.  "Has  Your 
Honor  recovered  your  health  ?  Well,  God  be 
praised.  It  has  been  very  dull  for  us  without 
you." 

It  was  immediately  apparent  that  Kozeltzoff 
was  beloved  in  the  company. 

In  the  depths  of  the  casemate,  voices  could 
be  heard.  Their  old  commander,  who  had  been 
wounded,  Mikhail  Semyonitch  Kozeltzoff,  had  ar- 
rived, and  so  forth  ;  some  even  approached,  and 
the  drummer  congratulated  him. 

"  How  are  you,  Obantchuk  t  "  said  Kozeltzoff. 
"  Are  you  all  right  .'*  Good-day,  children  ! "  he 
said,  raising  his  voice. 

''  We  wish  you  health  ! "  sounded  through  the 
casemate. 

''  How  are  you  getting  on,  children  t " 

"  Badly,  Your  Honor.  The  French  are  getting 
the  better  of  us. —  Fighting  from  behind  the  forti- 
fications is  bad  work,  and  that's  all  there  is  about 
it !  and  they  won't  come  out  into  the  open  field." 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  jc,g 

"  Perhaps  luck  is  with  me,  and  God  will  grant 
that  they  shall  come  out  into  the  field,  children  !  " 
said  Kozeltzoff.  **  It  won't  be  the  first  time  that 
you  and  I  have  taken  a  hand  together  :  we'll  beat 
them  again." 

"We'll  be  glad  to  try  it,  Your  Honor!"  ex- 
claimed several  voices. 

"  And  how  about  them  —  are  they  really  bold  ?  " 

"  Frightfully  bold  ! "  said  the  drummer,  not 
loudly^  but  so  that  his  words  were  audible,  turning 
to  another  soldier,  as  though  justifying  before  him 
the  words  of  the  commander,  and  persuading  him 
that  there  was  nothing  boastful  or  improbable  in 
these  words. 

From  the  soldiers,  Kozeltzoff  proceeded  to  the 
defensive  barracks  and  his  brother  officers. 


200  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


XVI. 

In  the  large  room  of  the  barracks  there  was  a 
great  number  of  men ;  naval,  artillery,  and  infan- 
try officers.  Some  were  sleeping,  others  were 
conversing,  seated  on  the  shot-chests  and  gun- 
carriages  of  the  cannons  of  the  fortifications  ; 
others  still,  who  formed  a  very  numerous  and 
noisy  group  behind  the  arch,  were  seated  upon  two 
felt  rugs,  which  had  been  spread  on  the  floor,  and 
were  drinking  porter  and  playing  cards. 

*'  Ah  !  Kozeltzoff,  Kozeltzoff !  Capital !  it's  a 
good  thing  trhat  he  has  come  !  He's  a  brave  fel- 
low !  .  .  .  How's  your  wound  t "  rang  out  from 
various  quarters.  Here  also  it  was  evident  that 
they  loved  him  and  were  rejoiced  at  his  coming. 

After  shaking  hands  with  his  friends,  Kozeltzoff 
joined  the  noisy  group  of  officers  engaged  in  play- 
ing cards.  There  were  some  of  his  acquaintances 
among  them.  A  slender,  handsome,  dark-com- 
plexioned man,  with  a  long,  sharp  nose  and  a  huge 
moustache,  which  began  on  his  cheeks,  was  deal- 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  2OI 

ing  the  cards  with  his  thin,  white,  taper  fingers, 
on  one  of  which  there  was  a  heavy  gold  seal  ring. 
He  was  dealing  straight  on,  and  carelessly,  being 
evidently  excited  by  something, — and  merely  de- 
sirous of  making  a  show  of  heedlessness.  On  his 
right,  and  beside  him,  lay  a  gray-haired  major, 
supporting  himself  on  his  elbow,  and  playing  for 
half  a  ruble  with  affected  coolness,  and  settling 
up  immediately.  On  his  left  squatted  an  officer 
with  a  red,  perspiring  face,  who  was  laughing  and 
jesting  in  a  constrained  way.  When  his  cards 
won,  he  moved  one  hand  about  incessantly  in  his 
empty  trousers  pocket.  He  was  playing  high,  and 
evidently  no  longer  for  ready  money,  which  dis- 
pleased the  handsome,  dark-complexioned  man. 
A  thin  and  pallid  officer  with  a  bald  head,  and  a 
huge  nose  and  mouth,  was  walking  about  the 
room,  holding  a  large  package  of  bank-notes  in 
his  hand,  staking  ready  money  on  the  bank,  and 
winning. 

Kozeltzoff  took  a  drink  of  vodka,  and'sat  down 
by  the  players. 

"  Take  a  hand,  Mikhail  Semyonitch  !  "  said  the 
dealer  to  him  ;  "you  have  brought  lots  of  money, 
I  suppose." 


202  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

"  Where  should  I  get  any  money  !  On  the  con- 
trary, I  got  rid  of  the  last  I  had  in  town." 

**  The  idea !  Some  one  certainly  must  have 
fleeced  you  in  Simpferopol." 

"  I  really  have  but  very  little,"  said  Kozeltzoff, 
but  he  was  evidently  desirous  that  they  should 
not  believe  him  ;  then  he  unbuttoned  his  coat, 
and  took  the  old  cards  in  his  hand. 

"  I  don't  care  if  I  do  try ;  there's  no  knowing 
what  the  Evil  One  will  do  !  queer  things  do  come 
about  at  times.  But  I  must  have  a  drink,  to  get 
up  my  courage." 

And  within  a  very  short  space  of  time  he  had 
drunk  another  glass  of  vodka  and  several  of  por- 
ter, and  had  lost  his  last  three  rubles. 

A  hundred  and  fifty  rubles  were  written  down 
against  the  little,  perspiring  officer. 

"  No,  he  will  not  bring  them,"  said  he,  care- 
lessly, drawing  a  fresh  card. 

"  Try  to  send  it,"  said  the  dealer  to  him,  paus- 
ing a  moment  in  his  occupation  of  laying  out  the 
cards,  and  glancing  at  him. 

"  Permit  me  to  send  it  to-morrow,"  repeated  the 
perspiring  officer,  rising,  and  moving  his  hand 
about  vigorously  in  his  empty  pocket. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  203 

"  Hm  ! "  growled  the  dealer,  and,  throwing  the 
cards  angrily  to  the  right  and  left,  he  completed 
the  deal.  "  But  this  won't  do,"  said  he,  when  he 
had  dealt  the  cards.  "  I'm  going  to  stop.  It 
won't  do,  Zakhar  Ivanitch,"  he  added,  "we  have 
been  playing  for  ready  money  and  not  on  credit." 

"  What,  do  you  doubt  me }  That's  strange, 
truly !  " 

"  From  whom  is  one  to  get  anything  }  "  mut- 
tered the  major,  who  had  won  about  eight  rubles. 
*'  I  have  lost  over  twenty  rubles,  but  when  I  have 
won  —  I  get  nothing." 

**  How  am  I  to  pay,"  said  the  dealer,  "  when 
there  is  no  money  on  the  table  .'*  " 

"  I  won't  listen  to  you  !  "  shouted  the  major, 
jumping  up,  "  I  am  playing  with  you,  but  not  with 
him." 

All  at  once  the  perspiring  officer  flew  into  a 
rage. 

*'  I  tell  you  that  I  will  pay  to-morrow ;  how  dare 
you  say  such  impertinent  things  to  me  t  " 

**  I  shall  say  what  I  please !  This  is  not  the 
way  to  do  — that's  the  truth  !  "  shouted  the  major. 

"  That  will  do,  Feodor  Feodoritch  ! "  all  chimed 
in,  holding  back  the  major. 


204  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

But  let  us  draw  a  veil  over  this  scene.  To- 
morrow, to-day,  it  may  be,  each  one'  of  these  men 
will  go  cheerfully  and  proudly  to  meet  his  death, 
and  he  will  die  with  firmness  and  composure  ;  but 
the  one  consolation  of  life  in  these  conditions, 
which  terrify  even  the  coldest  imagination  in  the 
absence  of  all  that  is  human,  and  the  hopelessness 
of  any  escape  from  them,  the  one  consolation  is 
forgetfulness,  the  annihilation  of  consciousness. 
At  the  bottom  of  the  soul  of  each  lies  that 
noble  spark,  which  makes  of  him  a  hero  ;  but 
this  spark  wearies  of  burning  clearly  —  when  the 
fateful  moment  comes  it  flashes  up  into  a  flame, 
and  illuminates  great  deeds. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  205 


XVII. 

On  the  following  day,  the  bombardment  pro- 
ceeded with  the  same  vigor.  At  eleven  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  Volodya  Kozeltzoff  was  seated  in  a 
circle  of  battery  officers,  and,  having  already  suc- 
ceeded to  some  extent  in  habituating  himself  to 
them,  he  was  surveying  the  new  faces,  taking  ob- 
servations, making  inquiries,  and  telling  stories. 

The  discreet  conversation  of  the  artillery  offi- 
cers, which  made  some  pretensions  to  learning, 
pleased  him  and  inspired  him  with  respect.  Volo- 
dya's  shy,  innocent,  and  handsome  appearance  dis- 
posed the  officers  in  his  favor. 

The  eldest  officer  in  the  battery,  the  captain,  a 
short,  sandy-complexioned  man,  with  his  hair  ar- 
ranged in  a  topknot,  and  smooth  on  the  temples, 
educated  in  the  old  traditions  of  the  artillery,  a 
squire  of  dames,  and  a  would-be  learned  man, 
questioned  Volodya  as  to  his  acquirements  in 
artillery  and  new  inventions,  jested  caressingly 
over    his   youth  and  his   pretty   little   face,   arid 


206  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

treated  him,  in  general,  as  a  father  treats  a  son, 
which  was  extremely  agreeable  to  Volodya. 

Sub-Lieutenant  Dyadenko,  a  young  officer, 
who  talked  with  a  Little  Russian  accent,  had  a 
tattered  cloak  and  dishevelled  hair,  althoug-h  he 
talked  very  loudly,  and  constantly  seized  oppor- 
tunities to  dispute  acrimoniously  over  some 
topic,  and  was  very  abrupt  in  his  movements, 
pleased  Volodya,  who,  beneath  this  rough  exte- 
rior, could  not  help  detecting  in  him  a  very  fine 
and  extremely  good  man.  Dyadenko  was  inces- 
santly offering  his  services  to  Volodya,  and  point- 
ing out  to  him  that  not  one  of  the  guns  in 
Sevastopol  was  properly  placed,  according  to  rule. 

Lieutenant  Tchernovitzky,  with  his  brows  ele- 
vated on  high,  though  he  was  more  courteous  than 
any  of  the  rest,  and  dressed  in  a  coat  that  was 
tolerably  clean,  but  not  new,  and  carefully  patched, 
and  though  he  displayed  a  gold  watch-chain  on  a 
satin  waistcoat,  did  not  please  Volodya.  He  kept 
inquiring  what  the  Emperor  and  the  minister  of 
war  were  doing,  and  related  to  him,  with  unnat- 
ural triumph,  the  deeds  of  valor  which  had  been 
performed  in  Sevastopol,  complained  of  the  small 
number   of   true   patriots,  and   displayed  a  great 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  207 

deal  of  learning,  and  sense,  and  noble  feeling  in 
general ;  but,  for  some  reason,  all  this  seemed  un- 
pleasant and  unnatural  to  Volodya.  The  principal 
thing  which  he  noticed  was  that  the  other  officers 
hardly  spoke  to  Tchernovitzky. 

Yunker  Viang,  whom  he  had  waked  up  on  the 
preceding  evening,  was  also  there.  He  said  noth- 
ing, but,  seated  modestly  in  a  corner,  laughed 
when  anything -amusing  occurred,  refreshed  their 
memories  when  they  forgot  anything,  handed  the 
vodka,  and  made  cigarettes  for  all  the  officers. 
Whether  it  was  the  modest,  courteous  manners  of 
Volodya,  who  treated  him  exactly  as  he  did  the 
officers,  and  did  not  torment  him  as  though  he 
were  a  little  boy,  or  his  agreeable  personal  ap- 
pearance which  captivated  Vlang<^,  as  the  soldiers 
called  him,  declining  his  name,  for  some  reason 
or  other,  in  the  feminine  gender,  at  all  events,  he 
never  took  his  big,  kind  eyes  from  the  face  of  the 
new  officer.  He  divined  and  anticipated  all  his 
wishes,  and  remained  uninterruptedly  in  a  sort  of 
lover-like  ecstasy,  which,  of  course,  the  officers 
perceived,  and  made  fun  of. 

Before  dinner,  the  staff-captain  was  relieved  from 
the  battery,  and  joined  their  company.     Staff-Cap- 


2o8  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

tain  Kraut  was  a  light-complexioned,  handsome, 
dashing  officer,  with  a  heavy,  reddish  moustache, 
and  side-whiskers ;  he  spoke  Russian  capitally, 
but  too  elegantly  and  correctly  for  a  Russian.  In 
the  service  and  in  his  life,  he  had  been  the  same 
as  in  his  language  ;  he  served  very  well,  was  a 
capital  comrade,  and  the  most  faithful  of  men  in 
money  matters  ;  but  simply  as  a  man  something 
was  lacking  in  him,  precisely  because  everything 
about  him  was  so  excellent.  Like  all  Russian- 
Germans,  by  a  strange  contradiction  with  the  ideal 
German,  he  was  "praktisch"  to  the  highest  degree. 

"  Here  he  is,  our  hero  makes  his  appearance  !  " 
said  the  captain,  as  Kraut,  flourishing  his  arms  and 
jingling  his  spurs,  entered  the  room.  "Which 
will  you  have,  Friedrich  Krestyanitch,  tea  or 
vodka  '^.  " 

"  I  have  already  ordered  my  tea  to  be  served," 
he  answered,  ''.but  I  may  take  a  little  drop  of 
vodka  also,  for  the  refreshing  of  the  soul.  Very 
glad  to  make  your  acquaintance ;  I  beg  that  you 
v,rill  love  us,  and  lend  us  your  favor,"  he  said  to 
Volodya,  who  rose  and  bowed  to  him.  "  Staff- 
Captain  Kraut.  .  .  .  The  gun-sergeant  on  the 
bastion  informed  me  that  you  arrived  last  night." 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  209 

"  Much  obliged  for  your  bed ;  I  passed  the 
night  in  it." 

"  I  hope  you  found  it  comfortable  ?  One  of  the 
legs  is  broken  ;  but  no  one  can  stand  on  cere- 
mony—  in  time  of  siege  —  you  must  prop  it  up." 

"  Well,  now,  did  you  have  a  fortunate  time  on 
your  watch  }  "  asked  Dyadenko. 

"  Yes,  all  right ;  only  Skvortzoff  was  hit,  and 
we  mended  one  of  the  gun-carriages  last  night. 
The  cheek  was  smashed  to  atoms." 

He  rose  from  his  seat,  and  began  to  walk  up 
and  down ;  it  was  plain  that  he  was  wholly  under 
the  influence  of  that  agreeable  sensation  which  a 
man  experiences  who  has  just  escaped  a  danger. 

"  Well,  Dmitri  Gavrilitch,"  he  said,  tapping  the 
captain  on  the  knee,  "  how  are  you  getting  on,  my 
dear  fellow.?  How  about  your  promotion.? — no 
word  yet .? " 

"  Nothing  yet." 

"  No,  and  there  will  be  nothing,"  interpolated 
Dyadenko  :  "  I  proved  that  to  you  before." 

"  Why  won't  there  }  " 

"Because  the  story  was  not  properly  written 
down." 

"  Oh,  you  quarrelsome  fellow,  you  quarrelsome 


2IO  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

fellow  !  "  said  Kraut,  smiling  gayly ;  "  a  regular 
obstinate  Little  Russian !  Now,  just  to  provoke 
you,  he'll  turn  out  your  lieutenant." 

"  No,  he  won't." 

"Viang !  fetch  me  my  pipe,  and  fill  it,"  said  he, 
turning  to  the  yunker,  who  at  once  hastened  up 
obligingly  with  the  pipe. 

Kraut  made  them  all  lively ;  he  told  about  the 
bombardment,  he  inquired  what  had  been  going 
on  in  his  absence,  and  entered  into  conversation 
with  every  one. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  211 


XVIII. 

"Well,  how  are  things?  Have  you  already 
got  settled  among  us  ? "  Kraut  asked  Volodya. 
..."  Excuse  me,  what  is  your  name  and  patro- 
nymic ?  that's  the  custom  with  us  in  the  artillery, 
you  know.     Have  you  got  hold  of  a  saddle-horse.'' " 

"  No,"  said  Volodya ;  "  I  do  not  know  what  to 
do.  I  told  the  captain  that  I  had  no  horse,  and 
no  money,  either,  until  I  get  some  for  forage  and 
travelling  expenses.  I  want  to  ask  the  battery 
commander  for  a  horse  in  the  meantime,  but  I  am 
afraid  that  he  will  refuse  me." 

"  Apollon  Sergiditch,  do  you  mean }  "  he  pro- 
duced with  his  lips  a  sound  indicative  of  the 
strongest  doubt,  and  glanced  at  the  captain ;  "  not 
likely." 

"  What's  that }  If  he  does  refuse,  there'll  be 
no  harm  done,"  said  the  captain.  "There  are 
horses,  to  tell  the  truth,  which  are  not  needed, 
but  still  one  might  try;  I  will  inquire  to-day." 

"  What !     Don't  you  know  him  t "  Dyadenko  in- 


212  S^  VASTOPOL  IN  A  UGC/ST. 

terpolated.  "He  might  refuse  anything,  but  there 
is  no  reason  for  refusing  this.  Do  you  want  to 
bet  on  it  ?  .  .  ." 

"  Well,  of  course,  everybody  knows  already  that 
you  always  contradict." 

"  I  contradict  because  I  know.  He  is  niggardly 
about  other  things,  but  he  will  give  the  horse 
because  it  is  no  advantage  to  him  to  refuse." 

"  No  advantage,  indeed,  when  it  costs  him  eight 
rubles  here  for  oats  !  "  said  Kraut.  *'  Is  there  no 
advantage  in  not  keeping  an  extra  horse  .?  " 

"Ask  Skvoretz  yourself,  Vladimir  Semyonitch  !" 
said  Viang,  returning  with  Kraut's  pipe.  "It's  a 
capital  horse." 

"  The  one  you  tumbled  into  the  ditch  with,  on 
the  festival  of  the  forty  martyrs,  in  March  .^  Hey ! 
Viang  }  "  remarked  the  staff-captain. 

"  No,  and  why  should  you  say  that  it  costs  eight 
rubles  for  oats,"  pursued  Dyadenko,  "  when  his 
own  inquiries  show  him  that  it  is  ten  and  a  half  ; 
of  course,  he  has  no  object  in  it." 

"  Just  as  though  he  would  have  nothing  left  ! 
So  when  you  get  to  be  battery  commander,  you 
won't  let  any  horses  go  into  the  town  1  " 

"  When   I    get   to  be  battery  commander,   my 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  213 

dear  fellow,  my  horses  will  get  four  measures  of 
oats  to  eat,  and  I  shall  not  accumulate  an  income, 
never  fear  ! " 

*•  If  we  live,  we  shall  see,"  said  the  staff-cap- 
tain ;  "and  you  will  act  just  so,  and  so  will  he 
when  he  commands  a  battery,"  he  added,  point- 
ing at  Volodya. 

"  Why  do  you  think,  Friedrich  Krestyanitch, 
that  he  would  turn  it  to  his  profit  ?  "  broke  in 
Tchernovitzky.  "  Perhaps  he  has  property  of  his 
own  ;  then  why  should  he  turn  it  to  profit  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  I  .  .  .  excuse  me,  captain,"  said 
Volodya,  reddening  up  to  his  ears,  "  that  strikes 
me  as  insulting." 

"  Oh  ho,  ho !  What  a  madcap  he  is  ! "  said 
Kraut. 

"That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it  ;  I  only  think 
that  if  the  money  were  not  mine,  I  should  not 
take  it." 

"  Now,  I'll  tell  you  something  right  here,  young 
man,"  began  the  staff-captain  in  a  more  serious 
tone,  "  you  are  to  understand  that  when  you  com- 
mand a  battery,  if  you  manage  things  well,  that's 
sufficient  ;  the  commander  of  a  battery  does  not 
meddle  with  provisioning  the  soldiers  ;  that  is  the 


214  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

way  it  has  been  from  time  immemorial  in  the  ar- 
tillery. If  you  are  a  bad  manager,  you  will  have 
nothing  left.  Now,  these  are  the  expenditures  in 
conformity  with  your  position  :  for  shoeing  your 
horse,  — one  (he  closed  one  finger) ;  for  the  apoth- 
ecary, —two  (he  closed  another  finger) ;  for  office 
work,  —  three  (he  shut  a  third) ;  for  extra  horses, 
which  cost  five  hundred  rubles,  my  dear  fellow,  — 
that's  four ;  you  must  change  the  soldiers'  collars, 
you  will  use  a  great  deal  of  coal,  you  must  keep 
open  table  for  your  officers.  If  you  are  a  battery- 
commander,  you  must  live  decently  ;  you  need  a 
carriage,  and  a  fur  coat,  and  this  thing  and  that 
thing,  and  a  dozen  more  .  .  .  but  what's  the  use 
of  enumerating  them  all  ! " 

"But  this  is  the  principal  thing,  Vladimir  Sem- 
yonitch,"  interpolated  the  captain,  who  had  held 
his  peace  all  this  time;  "imagine  yourself  to  be  a 
man  who,  like  myself,  for  instance,  has  served 
twenty  years,  first  for  two  hundred,  then  for 
three  hundred  rubles  pay ;  why  should  he  not  ^ 
be  given  at  least  a  bit  of  bread,  against  his  old 
age  t  " 

"  Eh  !  yes,  there  you  have  it ! "  spoke  up  the 
staff-captain  again,  "don't  be  in  a  hurry  to  pro- 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  215 

noimce  judgment,  but  live  on  and  serve  your 
time." 

Volodya  was  horribly,  ashamed  and  sorry  for 
having  spoken  so  thoughtlessly,  and  he  muttered 
something  and  continued  to  listen  in  silence, 
when  Dyadenko  undertook,  with  the  greatest  zeal, 
to  dispute  it  and  to  prove  the  contrary. 

The  dispute  was  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of 
the  colonel's  servant,  who  summoned  them  to 
dinner. 

"  Tell  Apollon  Sergieitch  that  he  must  give  us 
some  wine  to-day,"  said  Tchernovitzky,  to  the 
captain,  as  he  buttoned  up  his  uniform.  —  "  Why 
is  he  so  stingy  with  it }  He  will  be  killed,  and  no 
one  will  get  the  good  of  it." 

"Tell  him.  yourself." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  You  are  my  superior  officer. 
Rank  must  be  regarded  in  all  things." 


2l6  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


XIX. 

The  table  had  been  moved  out  from  the  wall, 
and  spread  with  a  soiled  table-cloth,  in  the  same 
room  in  which  Volodya  had  presented  himself  to 
the  colonel  on  the  preceding  evening.  The  bat- 
tery commander  now  offered  him  his  hand,  and 
questioned  him  about  Petersburg  and  his  journey. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  I  beg  the  favor  of  a  glass 
with  any  of  you  who  drink  vodka.  The  ensigns 
do  not  drink,"  he  added,  with  a  smile. 

On  the  whole,  the  battery  commander  did  not 
appear  nearly  so  stern  to-day  as  he  had  on  the 
preceding  evening ;  on  the  contrary,  he  had  the 
appearance  of  a  kindly,  hospitable  host,  and  an 
elder  comrade  among  the  officers.  But,  in  spite 
of  this,  all  the  officers,  from  the  old  captain  down 
to  Ensign  Dyadenko,  by  their  very  manner  of 
speaking  and  looking  the  commander  straight  in 
the  eye,  as  they  approached,  one  after  the  other, 
to  drink  their  vodka,  exhibited  great  respect  for 
him. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


217 


The  dinner  consisted  of  a  large  wooden  bowl  of 
cabbage-soup,  in  which  floated  fat  chunks  of  beef, 
and  a  huge  quantity  of  pepper  and  laurel-leaves, 
mustard,  and  Polish  meat-balls  in  a  cabbage  leaf, 
turnover  patties  of  chopped  meat  and  dough,  and 
with  butter,  which  was  not  perfectly  fresh.  There 
were  no  napkins,  the  spoons  were  of  pewter  and 
wood,  there  were  only  two  glasses,  and  on  the  table 
stood  a  decanter  of  water  with  a  broken  neck  ; 
but  the  dinner  was  not  dull ;  conversation  never 
halted. 

At  first,  their  talk  turned  on  the  battle  of 
Inkerman,  in  which  the  battery  had  taken  part, 
as  to  the  causes  of  failure,  of  which  each  one  gave 
his  own  impressions  and  ideas,  and  held  his  tongue 
as  soon  as  the  battery  commander  himself  began 
to  speak  ;  then  the  conversation  naturally  changed 
to  the  insufficiency  of  calibre  of  the  light  guns, 
and  upon  the  new  lightened  cannons,  in  which 
connection  Volodya  had  an  opportunity  to  display 
his  knowledge  of  artillery. 

But  their  talk  did  not  dwell  upon  the  present 
terrible  position  of  Sevastopol,  as  though  each 
of  them  had  meditated  too  much  on  that  sub- 
ject to  allude  to  it  again.     In  the  same  way,  to 


2l8  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

Volodya's  great  amazement  and  disappointment, 
not  a  word  was  said  about  the  duties  of  the  ser- 
vice which  he  was  to  fulfil,  just  as  though  he 
had  come  to  Sevastopol  merely  for  the  purpose 
of  telling  about  the  new  cannon  and  dining  with 
the  commander  of  the  battery. 

While  they  were  at  dinner,  a  bomb  fell  not  far 
from  the  house  in  which  they  were  seated.  The 
walls  and  the  floor  trembled,  as  though  in  an 
earthquake,  and  the  window  was  obscured  with 
the  smoke  of  the  powder. 

**  You  did  not  see  anything  of  this  sort  in  Pe- 
tersburg, I  fancy  ;  but  these  surprises  often  take 
place  here,"  said  the  battery  commander. 

**  Look  out,  Viang,  and  see  where  it  burst." 

Viang  looked,  and  reported  that  it  had  burst  on 
the  square,  and  then  there  was  nothing  more  said 
about  the  bomb. 

Just  before  the  end  of  the  dinner,  an  old  man, 
the  clerk  of  the  battery,  entered  the  room,  with 
three  sealed  envelopes,  and  handed  them  to  the 
commander. 

**  This  is  very  important ;  a  messenger  has  this 
moment  brought  these  from  the  chief  of  the 
artillery." 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  219 

All  the  officers  gazed,  with  impatient  curiosity, 
at  the  commander's  practised  fingers  as  they 
broke  the  seal  of  the  envelope  and  drew  forth  the 
very  important  paper.  **  What  can  it  be  ? "  each 
one  asked  himself. 

It  might  be  that  they  were  to  march  out  of  Se- 
vastopol for  a  rest,  it  might  be  an  order  for  the 
whole  battery  to  betake  themselves  to  the  bas- 
tions. 

"  Again  ! "  said  the  commander,  flinging  the 
paper  angrily  on  the  table. 

"  What's  it  about,  ApoUon  Sergieitch  t "  inquired 
the  eldest  officer. 

*'  An  officer  and  crew  are  required  for  a  mortar 
battery  over  yonder,  and  I  have  only  four  officers, 
and  there  is  not  a  full  gun-crew  in  the  line," 
growled  the  commander :  "  and  here  more  are 
demanded  of  me.  But  some  one  must  go,  gentle- 
men," he  said,  after  a  brief  pause  :  "  the  order  re- 
quires him  to  be  at  the  barrier  at  seven  o'clock. 
.  .  .  Send  the  sergeant  !  Who  is  to  go,  gentle- 
men }  decide,"  he  repeated. 

"  Well,  here's  one  who  has  never  been  yet," 
said  Tchernovitzky,  pointing  to  Volodya.  The 
commander  of  the  battery  made  no  reply. 


220  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

"Yes,  I  should  like  to  go,"  said  Volodya,  as 
he  felt  the  cold  sweat  start  out  on  his  back  and 
neck. 

"  No  ;  why  should  you  ?  There's  no  occasion  !  " 
broke  in  the  captain.  *'  Of  course,  no  one  will 
refuse,  but  neither  is  it  proper  to  ask  any  one  ; 
but  if  Apollon  Sergieitch  will  permit  us,  we  will 
draw  lots,  as  we  did  once  before." 

All  agreed  to  this.  Kraut  cut  some  paper  into 
bits,  folded  them  up,  and  dropped  them  into  a 
cap.  The  captain  jested,  and  even  plucked  up  the 
audacity,  on  this  occasion,  to  ask  the  colonel  for 
wine,  to  keep  up  their  courage,  he  said.  Dya- 
denko  sat  in  gloomy  silence,  Volodya  smiled  at 
something  or  other,  Tchernovitzky  declared  that 
it  would  infallibly  fall  to  him,  Kraut. was  perfectly 
composed. 

Volodya  was  allowed  to  draw  first ;  he  took  one 
slip,  which  was  rather  long,  but  it  immediately 
occurred  to  him  to  change  it  ;  he  took  another, 
which  was  smaller  and  thinner,  unfolded  it,  and 
read  on  it,  **  I  go." 

"  It  has  fallen  to  me,"  he  said,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Well,  God  be  with  you.  You  will  get  your 
baptism  of  fire  at  once,"  said  the  commander  of 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


221 


the  battery,  gazing  at  the  perturbed  countenance 
of  the  ensign  with  a  kindly  smile  ;  "  but  you  must 
get  there  as  speedily  as  possible.  And,  to  make 
it  more  cheerful  for  you,  Viang  shall  go  with  you 


as  gun-sergeant. 


222  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 


XX. 

Vlang  was  exceedingly  well  pleased  with  the 
duty  assigned  to  him,  and  ran  hastily  to  make  his 
preparations,  and,  when  h.e  was  dressed,  he  went 
to  the  assistance  of  Volodya,  and  tried  to  persuade 
the  latter  to  take  his  cot  and  fur  coat  with  him, 
and  some  old  '*  Annals  of  the  Country,"  and  a 
spirit-lamp  coffee-pot,  and  other  useless  things. 
The  captain  advised  Volodya  to  read  up  his 
**  Manual,"  *  first,  about  mortar-firing,  and  imme- 
diately to  copy  the  tables  out  of  it. 

Volodya  set  about  this  at  once,  and,  to  his 
amazement  and  delight,  he  perceived  that,  though 
he  was  still  somewhat  troubled  with  a  sensation  of 
fear  of  danger,  and  still  more  lest  he  should  turn 
out  a  coward,  yet  it  was  far  from  being  to  that 
degree  to  which  it  had  affected  him  on  the  pre- 
ceding evening.  The  reason  for  this  lay  partly  in 
the  daylight  and  in  active  occupation,  and  partly, 
principally,  also,  in  the  fact  that  fear  and  all  pow- 

*  "  Manual  for  Artillery  Officers,"  by  Bezak. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


223 


erful  emotions  cannot  long  continue  with  the  same 
intensity.  In  a  word,  he  had  already  succeeded 
in  recovering  from  his  terror. 

At  seven  o'clock,  just  as  the  sun  had  begun  to 
hide  itself  behind  the  Nikolaevsky  barracks,  the 
sergeant  came  to  him,  and  announced  that  the 
men  were  ready  and  waiting  for  him. 

"  I  have  given  the  list  to  Vlang^.  You  will 
please  to  ask  him  for  it.  Your  Honor!"  said  he. 

Twenty  artillery-men,  with  side-arms,  but  with- 
out loading-tools,  were  standing  at  the  corner  of 
the  house.  Volodya  and  the  yunker  stepped  up 
to  them. 

"  Shall  I  make  them  a'  little  speech,  or  shall  I 
simply  say,  *  Good  day,  children  !  *  or  shall  I  say 
nothing  at  all }  "  thought  he.  "  And  why  should 
I  not  say,  *  Good  day,  children  ! '  Why,  I  ought  to 
say  that  much!"  And  he  shouted  boldly,  in  his 
ringing  voice  :  — 

"Good  day,  children  !  " 

The  soldiers  responded  cheerfully.  The  fresh, 
young  voice  sounded  pleasant  in  the  ears  of  all. 
Volodya  marched  vigorously  at  their  head,  in  front 
of  the  soldiers,  and,  although  his  heart  beat  as 
if   he   had   run   several  versts  at  the  top  of  his 


224  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

speed,  his  step  was  light  and  his  countenance 
cheerful. 

On  arriving  at  the  Malakoff  mound,  and  climb- 
ing the  slope,  he  perceived  that  Viang,  who  had 
not  lagged  a  single  pace  behind  him,  and  who  had 
appeared  such  a  valiant  fellow  at  home  in  the  house, 
kept  constantly  swerving  to  one  side,  and  ducking 
his  head,  as  though  all  the  cannon-balls  and 
bombs,  which  whizzed  by  very  frequently  in  that 
locality,  were  flying  straight  at  him.  Some  of  the 
soldiers  did  the  same,  and  the  faces  of  the  majority 
of  them  betrayed,  if  not  fear,  at  least  anxiety. 
This  circumstance  put  the  finishing  touch  to  Vo- 
lodya's  composure  and  encouraged  him  finally. 

*'  So  here  I  am  also  on  the  Malakoff  mound, 
which  I  imagined  to  be  a  thousand  times  more  ter- 
rible !  And  I  can  walk  along  without  ducking  my 
head  before  the  bombs,  and  am  far  less  terrified 
than  the  rest !  So  I  am  not  a  coward,  after  all  }  " 
he  thought  with  delight,  and  even  with  a  some- 
what enthusiastic  self-sufficiency. 

But  this  feeling  was  soon  shaken  by  a  spectacle 
upon  which  he  stumbled  in  the  twilight,  on  the 
Kornilovsky  battery,  in  his  search  for  the  com- 
mander  of   the   bastion.      Four  sailors   standing 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


5 


near  the  breastworks  were  holding  the  bloody 
body  of  a  man,  without  shoes  or  coat,  by  its  arms 
and  legs,  and  staggering  as  they  tried  to  fling  it 
over  the  ramparts. 

(On  the  second  day  of  the  bombardment,  it 
had  been  found  impossible,  in  some  localities, 
to  carry  off  the  corpses  from  the  bastions,  and 
so  they  were  flung  into  the  trench,  in  order 
that  they  might  not  impede  action  in  the  bat- 
teries.) 

Volodya  stood  petrified  for  a  moment,  as  he 
saw  the  corpse  waver  on  the  summit  of  the 
breastworks,  and  then  roll  down  into  the  ditch  ; 
but,  luckily  for  him,  the  commander  of  the 
bastion  met  him  there,  communicated  his  orders, 
and  furnished  him  with  a  guide  to  the  battery  and 
to  the  bomb-proofs  designated  for  his  service. 
We  will  not  enumerate  the  remaining  dangers  and 
disenchantments  which  our  hero  underwent  that 
evening :  how,  instead  of  the  firing,  such  as  he  had 
seen  on  the  Volkoff  field,  according  to  the  rules  of 
accuracy  and  precision,  which  he  had  expected  to 
find  here,  he  found  two  cracked  mortars,  one  of 
which  had  been  crushed  by  a  cannon-ball  in  the 
muzzle,    while  the  other  stood    upon    the   splin- 


226  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

ters  of  a  ruined  platform  ;  how  he  could  not  obtain 
any  workmen  until  the  following  morning  in  or- 
der to  repair  the  platform  ;  how  not  a  single  charge 
was  of  the  weight  prescribed  in  the  "Manual;" 
how  two  soldiers  of  his  command  were  wounded, 
and  how  he  was  twenty  times  within  a  hair's- 
breadth  of  death. 

Fortunately,  there  had  been  assigned  for  his 
assistant  a  gun-captain  of  gigantic  size,  a  sailor, 
who  had  served  on  the  mortars  since  the  begin- 
ning of  the  siege,  and  who  convinced  him  of  the 
practicability  of  using  them,  conducted  him  all 
over  the  bastion,  with  a  lantern,  during  the  night, 
exactly  as  though  it  had  been  his  own  kitchen- 
garden,  and  who  promised  to  put  everything  in 
proper  shape  on  the  morrow. 

The  bomb-proof  to  which  his  guide  conducted 
him  was  excavated  in  the  rocky  soil,  and  consisted 
of  a  long  hole,  two  cubic  fathoms  in  extent,  cov- 
ered with  oaken  planks  an  arshin  in  thickness. 
Here  he  took  up  his  post,  with  all  his  soldiers. 
Viang  was  the  first,  when  he  caught  sight  of  the 
little  door,  twenty-eight  inches  high,  of  the  bomb- 
proof, to  rush  headlong  into  it,  in  front  of  them 
all,  and,  after  nearly  cracking  his  skull  on  the  stone 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


227 


floor,  he  huddled  down  in  a  corner,  from  which  he 
did  not  again  emerge. 

And  Volodya,  when  all  the  soldiers  had  placed 
themselves  along  the  wall  on  the  floor,  and  some 
had  lighted  their  pipes,  set  up  his  bed  in  one  cor- 
ner, lighted  a  candle,  and  lay  upon  his  cot,  smok- 
ing a  cigarette. 

Shots  were  incessantly  heard,  over  the  bomb- 
proof, but  they  were  not  very  loud,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  those  from  one  cannon,  which  stood  close 
by  and  shook  the  bomb-proof  with  its  thunder. 
In  the  bomb-proof  itself  all  was  still  ;  the  soldiers, 
who  were  a  little  shy,  as  yet,  of  the  new  officer, 
only  exchanged  a  few  words,  now  and  then,  as 
they  requested  each  other  to  move  out  of  the  way 
or  to  furnish  a  light  for  a  pipe.  A  rat  scratched 
somewhere  among  the  stones,  or  Viang,  who  had 
not  yet  recovered  himself,  and  who  still  gazed 
wildly  about  him,  uttered  a  sudden  vigorous 
sigh. 

Volodya,  as  he  lay  on  his  bed,  in  his  quiet  cor- 
ner, surrounded  by  the  men,  and  illuminated  only 
by  a  single  candle,  experienced  that  sensation  of 
well-being  which  he  had  known  as  a  child,  when, 
in  the  course  of  a  game  of  hide-and-seek,  he  used 


228  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

to  crawl  into  a  cupboard  or  under  his  mother's 
skirts,  and  listen,  not  daring  to  draw  his  breath, 
and  afraid  of  the  dark,  and  yet  conscious  of  en- 
joying himself.  He  felt  a  little  oppressed,  but 
cheerfuL 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


229 


XXI. 

After  the  lapse  of  about  ten  minutes,  the  sol- 
diers began  to  change  about  and  to  converse  to- 
gether. The  most  important  personages  among 
them  — the  two  gun-sergeants  — placed  themselves 
nearest  the  officer's  light  and  bed  ;  —  one  was  old 
and  gray-haired,  with  every  possible  medal  and 
cross  except  the  George  ;  —  the  other  was  young,  a 
militia-man,  who  smoked  cigarettes,  which  he  was 
rolling.  The  drummer,  as  usual,  assumed  the  duty 
of  waiting  on  the  officer.  The  bombardiers  and 
cavalrymen  sat  next,  and  then  farther  away,  in  the 
shadow  of  the  entrance,  the  underlings  took  up 
their  post.  They  too  began  to  talk  among  them- 
selves. It  was  caused  by  the  hasty  entrance  of  a 
man  into  the  casemate. 

"How  now,  brother!  couldn't  you  stay  in  the 
street.^  Didn't  the  girls  sing  merrily.^"  said  a 
voice. 

"  They  sing  such  marvellous  songs  as  were  never 


230  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

heard  in  the  village,"  said  the  man  who  had  fled 
into  the  casemate,  with  a  laugh. 

"But  Vasin  does  not  love  bombs — ah,  no,  he 
does  not  love  them!"  said  one  from  the  aristo- 
cratic corner. 

''  The  idea !  It's  quite  another  matter  when 
it's  necessary,"  drawled  the  voice  of  Vasin,  who 
made  all  the  others  keep  silent  when  he  spoke  : 
*'  since  the  24th,  the  firing  has  been  going  on 
desperately ;  and  what  is  there  wrong  about  it  ? 
You'll  get  killed  for  nothing,  and  your  superiors 
won't  so  much  as  say  *  Thank  you  ! '  for  it." 

At  these  words  of  Vasin,  all  burst  into  a 
laugh. 

"There's  Melnikoff,  that  fellow  who  will  sit 
outside  the  door,"  said  some  one. 

"  Well,  send  him   here,   that  Melnikoff,"  added" 
the  old  gunner  ;  "  they  will  kill   him,  for  a  fact, 
and  that  to  no  purpose." 

"Who  is  this  Melnikoff.?"  asked  Volodya. 

"  Why,  Your  Honor,  he's  a  stupid  soldier  of 
ours.  He  doesn't  seem  to  be  afraid  of  any- 
thing, and  now  he  keeps  walking  about  outside. 
Please  to  take  a  look  at  him ;  he  looks  like  a 
bear." 


SEVASTOPOL  IN"  AUGUST.  '    23 1 

"  He  knows  a  spell,"  said  the  slow  voice  of 
Vasin,  from  the  corner. 

Melnikoff  entered  the  bomb-proof.  He  was  fat 
(which  is  extremely  rare  among  soldiers),  and  a 
sandy-complexioned,  handsome  man,  with  a  huge, 
bulging  forehead  and  prominent,  light  blue  eyes. 

"  Are  you  afraid  of  the  bombs  ? "  Volodya 
asked  him. 

"  What  is  there  about  the  bombs  to  be  afraid 
of  !  "  replied  Melnikoff,  shrugging  his  shoulders 
and  scratching  his  head,  "  I  know  that  I  shall  not 
be  killed  by  a  bomb." 

**  So  you  would  like  to  go  on  living  here  ? " 

"Why,  of  course,  I  would.  It's  jolly  here!" 
he  said,  with  a  sudden  outburst  of  laughter. 

"  Oh,  then  you  must  be  detailed  for  the  sortie  ! 
I'll  tell  the  general  so,  if  you  like  }  "  said  Volodya, 
although  he  was  not  acquainted  with  a  single  gen- 
eral there. 

"  Why  shouldn't  I  like  !     I  do  !  " 

And  Melnikoff  disappeared  behind  the  others. 

"  Let's  have  a  game  of  noski^^  children  !  Who 
has  cards  }  "  rang  out  his  brisk  voice. 

*  A  game  in  which  the  loser  is  rapped  on  the  nose  with  the 
cards. 


232  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

And,  in  fact,  it  was  not  long  before  a  game  was 
started  in  the  back  corner,  and  blows  on  the 
nose,  laughter,  and  calling  of  trumps  were  heard. 

Volodya  drank  some  tea  from  the  samovar,  which 
the  drummer  served  for  him,  treated  the  gunners, 
jested,  chatted  with  them,  being  desirous  of  win- 
ning popularity,  and  felt  very  well  content  with 
the  respect  which  was  shown  him.  The  soldiers, 
too,  perceiving  that  the  gentleman  put  on  no  airs, 
began  to  talk  together. 

One  declared  that  the  siege  of  Sevastopol  would 
soon  come  to  an  end,  because  a  trustworthy  man 
from  the  fleet  had  said  that  the  emperor's  brother 
Constantine  was  coming  to  our  relief  with  the 
'Merican  fleet,  and  there  would  soon  be  an  agree- 
ment that  there  should  be  no  firing  for  two  weeks, 
and  that  a  rest  should  be  allowed,  and  if  any  one 
did  fire  a  shot,  every  discharge  would  have  to  be 
paid  for  at  the  rate  of  seventy-five  kopeks  each. 

Vasin,  who,  as  Volodya  had  already  noticed, 
was  a  little  fellow,  with  large,  kindly  eyes,  and 
side-whiskers,  related,  amid  a  general  silence  at 
first,  and  afterwards  amid  general  laughter,  how, 
when  he  had  gone  home  on  leave,  they  had  been 
glad  at  first  to  see  him,   but  afterwards  his  father 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  233 

had  begun  to  send  him  off  to  work,  and  the 
lieutenant  of  the  foresters'  corps  sent  his  drozhki 
for  his  wife. 

All  this  amused  Volodya  greatly.  He  not  only 
did  not  experience  the  least  fear  or  inconvenience 
from  the  closeness  and  heavy  air  in  the  bomb- 
proof, but  he  felt  in  a  remarkably  cheerful  and 
agreeable  frame  of  mind. 

Many  of  the  soldiers  were  already  snoring. 
Viang  had  also  stretched  himself  out  on  the  floor, 
and  the  old  gun-sergeant,  having  spread  out  his 
cloak,  was  crossing  himself  and  muttering  his 
prayers,  preparatory  to  sleep,  when  Volodya  took 
a  fancy  to  step  out  of  the  bomb-proof,  and  see 
what  was  going  on  outside. 

"  Take  your  legs  out  of  the  way  !  "  cried  one 
soldier  to  another,  as  soon  as  he  rose,  and  the 
legs  were  pressed  aside  to  make  way  for  him. 

Viang,  who  appeared  to  be  asleep,  suddenly 
raised  his  head,  and  seized  Volodya  by  the  skirt 
of  his  coat. 

**Come,  don't  go  !  how  can  you  !  "  he  began,  in 
a  tearfully  imploring  tone.  "  You  don't  know 
about  things  yet ;  they  are  firing  at  us  out  there 
all  the  time ;  it  is  better  here." 


234 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 


But,  in  spite  of  Viang's  entreaties,  Volodya 
made  his  way  out  of  the  bomb-proof,  and  seated 
himself  on  the  threshold,  where  Melnikoff  was 
already  sitting. 

The  air  was  pure  and  fresh,  particularly  after 
the  bomb-proof  —  the  night  was  clear  and  still. 
Through  the  roar  of  the  discharges  could  be  heard 
the  sounds  of  cart-wheels,  bringing  gabions,  and 
the  voices  of  the  men  who  were  at  work  on  the 
magazine.  Above  their  heads  was  the  lofty,  starry 
sky,  across  which  flashed  the  fiery  streaks  caused 
by  the  bombs  ;  an  arshin  away,  on  the  left,  a  tiny 
opening  led  to  another  bomb-proof,  through  which 
the  feet  and  backs  of  the  soldiers  who  lived  there 
were  visible,  and  through  which  their  voices  were 
audible  ;  in  front,  the  elevation  produced  by  the 
powder-vault  could  be  seen,  and  athwart  it  flitted 
the  bent  figures  of  men,  and  upon  it,  at  the  very 
summit,  amid  the  bullets  and  the  bombs  which 
whistled  past  the  spot  incessantly,  stood  a  tall 
form  in  a  black  paletot,  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  and  feet  treading  down  the  earth,  which 
other  men  were  fetching  in  sacks.  Often  a  bomb 
would  fly  over,  and  burst  close  to  the  cave.  The 
soldiers  engaged  in  bringing  the  earth  bent  over 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


235 


and  ran  aside  ;  but  the  black  figure  never  moved  ; 
went  on  quietly  stamping  down  the  dirt  with  his 
feet,  and  remained  on  the  spot  in  the  same  atti- 
tude as  before. 

"  Who  is  that  black  man  ? "  inquired  Volodya 
of  Melnikoff. 

"  I  don't  know  ;  I  will  go  and  see." 

**  Don't  go  !  it  is  not  necessary." 

But  Melnikoff,  without  heeding  him,  walked  up 
to  the  black  figure,  and  stood  beside  him  for  a 
tolerably  long  time,  as  calm  and  immovable  as  the 
man  himself. 

"  That  is  the  man  who  has  charge  of  the  maga- 
zine. Your  Honor!  "  he  said,  on  his  return.  **It 
has  been  pierced  by  a  bomb,  so  the  infantry-men 
are  fetching  more  earth." 

Now  and  then,  a  bomb  seemed  to  fly  straight 
at  the  door  of  the -bomb-proof.  On  such  occa- 
sions, Volodya  shrank  into  the  corner,  and  then 
peered  forth  again,  gazing  upwards,  to  see 
whether  another  was  not  coming  from  some  direc- 
tion. Although  Viang,  from  the  interior  of  the 
bomb-proof,  repeatedly  besought  Volodya  to  come 
back,  the  latter  sat  on  the  threshold  for  three 
hours,  and  experienced  a  sort  of  satisfaction  in 


236  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

thus  tempting  fate  and  in  watching  the  flight  of 
the  bombs.  Towards  the  end  of  the  evening,  he 
had  learned  from  what  point  most  of  the  firing 
proceeded,  and  where  the  shots  struck. 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


237 


XXII. 

On  the  following  day,  the  27th,  after  a  ten- 
hours  sleep,  Volodya,  fresh  and  active,  stepped 
out  on  the  threshold  of  the  casement  ;  Viang 
also  started  to  crawl  out  with  him,  but,  at 
the  first  sound  of  a  bullet,  he  flung  himself  back- 
wards through  the  opening  of  the  bomb-proof, 
bumping  his  head  as  he  did  so,  amid  the  general 
merriment  of  the  soldiers,  the  majority  of  whom 
had  also  come  out  into  the  open  air.  Viang,  the 
old  gun-sergeant,  and  a  few  others  were  the  only 
ones  who  rarely  went  out  into  the  trenches  ;  it 
was  impossible  to  restrain  the  rest ;  they  all  scat- 
tered about  in  the  fresh  morning  air,  escaping 
from  the  fetid  air  of  the  bomb-proof,  and,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  the  bombardment  was  as  vigorous 
as  on  the  preceding  evening,  they  disposed  them- 
selves around  the  door,  and  some  even  on  the 
breastworks.  Melnikoff  had  been  strolling  about 
among  the  batteries  since  daybreak,  and  staring 
up  with  perfect  coolness. 


238  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

Near  the  entrance  sat  two  old  soldiers  and  one 
young,  curly-haired  fellow,  a  Jew,  who  had  been 
detailed  from  the  infantry.  This  soldier  picked 
up  one  of  the  bullets  which  were  lying  about,  and, 
having  smoothed  it  against  a  stone  with  a  pots- 
herd, with  his  knife  he  carved  from  it  a  cross, 
after  the  style  of  the  order  of  St.  George  ;  the 
others  looked  on  at  his  work  as  they  talked.  The 
cross  really  turned  out  to  be  quite  handsome. 

"  Now,  if  we  stay  here  much  longer,"  said  one 
of  them,  **  then,  when  peace  is  made,  the  time  of 
service  will  be  up  for  all  of  us." 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort  ;  I  have  at  least  four 
years  service  yet  before  my  time  is  up,  and  I 
have  been  in  Sevastopol  these  five  months." 

"  It  is  not  counted  towards  the  discharge,  do 
you  understand,"  said  another. 

At  that  moment,  a  cannon-ball  shrieked  over 
the  heads  of  the  speakers,  and  struck  only  an 
arshin  away  from  Melnikoff,  who  was  approaching 
them  from  the  trenches. 

"  That  came  near  killing  Melnikoff,"  said  one 
man. 

*'  I  shall  not  be  killed,"  said  Melnikoff. 

**  Here's  the  cross  for  you,  for  your  bravery," 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  239 

said  the  young  soldier,  who  had  made  the  cross, 
handing  it  to  Melnikoff. 

**  No,  brother,  a  month  here  counts  for  a  year, 
of  course  —  that  was  the  order,"  the  conversation 
continued. 

"  Think  what  you  please,  but  when  peace  is 
declared,  there  will  be  an  imperial  review  at 
Orshava,  and  if  we  don't  get  our  discharge,  we 
shall  be  allowed  to  go  on  indefinite  leave." 

At  that  moment,  a  shrieking  little  bullet  flew 
past  the  speakers'  heads,  and   struck  a  stone. 

"You'll  get  a  full  discharge  before  evening  — 
see  if  you  don't,"  said  one  of  the  soldiers. 

They  all  laughed. 

Not  only  before  evening,  but  before  the  expira- 
tion of  two  hours,  two  of  them  received  their  full 
discharge,  and  five  were  wounded  ;  but  the  rest 
jested  on  as  before. 

By  morning,  the  two  mortars  had  actually  been 
brought  into  such  a  condition  that  it  was  possible 
to  fire  them.  At  ten  o'clock,  in  accordance  with 
the  orders  which  he  had  received  from  the  com- 
mander of  the  bastion,  Volodya  called  out  his 
command,  and  marched  to   the  battery  with  it. 

In  the  men,  as  soon  as  they  proceeded  to  action, 


240  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

there  was  not  a  drop  of  that  sentiment  of  fear 
perceptible  which  had  been  expressed  on  the  pre- 
ceding evening.  Viang  alone  could  not  control 
himself  ;  he  dodged  and  ducked  just  as  before, 
and  Vasin  lost  some  of  his  composure,  and  fussed 
and  fidgeted  and  changed  his  place  incessantly. 

But  Volodya  was  in  an  extraordinary  state  of 
enthusiasm  ;  the  thought  of  danger  did  not  even 
occur  to  him.  Delight  that  he  was  fulfilling  his 
duty,  that  he  was  not  only  not  a  coward,  but  even 
a  valiant  fellow,  the  feeling  that  he  was  in  com- 
mand, and  the  presence  of  twenty  men,  who,  as  he 
was  aware,  were  surveying  him  with  curiosity, 
made  a  thoroughly  brave  man  of  him.  He  was 
even  vain  of  his  valor,  put  on  airs  before  his  sol- 
diers, climbed  up  on  the  banquette,  and  unbut- 
toned his  coat  expressly  that  he  might  render 
himself  the  more  distinctly  visible. 

The  commander  of  the  bastion,  who  was  going 
the  rounds  of  his  establishment  as  he  expressed  it, 
at  the  moment,  accustomed  as  he  had  become 
during  his  eight-months  experience  to  all  sorts 
of  bravery,  could  not  refrain  from  admiring  this 
handsome  lad,  in  the  unbuttoned  coat,  beneath 
which  a  red  shirt  was  visible,  encircling  his  soft 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  24 1 

white  neck,  with  his  animated  face  and  eyes,  as  he 
clapped  his  hands  and  shouted:  "  First !  Second  !  " 
and  ran  gayly  along  the  ramparts,  in  order  to  see 
where  his  bomb  would  fall. 

At  half-past  eleven  the  firing  ceased  on  both 
sides,  and  at  precisely  twelve  o'clock  the  storming 
of  the  Malakoff  mound,  of  the  second,  third,  and 
fifth  bastions  began. 


24: 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST, 


XXIII. 

On  this  side  of  the  bay,  between  Inkerman 
and  the  northern  fortifications,  on  the  telegraph 
hill,  about  midday,  stood'  two  naval  men ;  one  was 
an  officer,  who  was  engaged  in  observing  Sevasto- 
pol through  a  telescope,  and  the  other  had  just 
arrived  at  the  signal-station  with  his  orderly. 

The  sun  stood  high  and  brilliant  above  the  bay, 
and  played  with  the  ships  which  floated  upon  it, 
and  with  the  moving  sails  and  boats,  with  a  warm 
and  cheerful  glow.  The  light  breeze  hardly 
moved  the  leaves  of  the  dry  oak-shrubs  which 
stood  about  the  signal-pole,  puffed  out  the  sails 
of  the  boats,  and  ruffled  the  waves. 

Sevastopol,  with  her  unfinished  church,  her 
columns,  her  line  of  shore,  her  boulevard  show- 
ing green  against  the  hill,  and  her  elegant  library 
building,  with  her  tiny  azure  inlets,  filled  with 
masts,  with  the  picturesque  arches  of  her  aque- 
ducts, and  the  clouds  of  blue  smoke,  lighted  up 
now  and  then  by  red  flashes  of   flame  from  the 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  243 

firing ;  the  same  beautiful,  proud,  festive  Sevas- 
topol, hemmed  in  on  one  side  by  yellow,  smoke- 
crowned  hills,  on  the  other  by  the  bright  blue  sea, 
which  glittered  in  the  sun,  was  visible  the  same  as 
ever,  on  the  other  side  of  the  bay. 

Over  the  horizon-line  of  the  sea,  along  which 
floated  a  long  wreath  of  black  smoke  from  some 
steamer,  crept  long  white  clouds,  portending  a 
gale.  Along  the  entire  line  of  the  fortifications, 
especially  over  the  hills  on  the  left,  rose  columns 
of  thick,  dense,  white  smoke;  suddenly,  abruptly, 
and  incessantly  illuminated  by  flashes,  lightnings, 
which  shone  even  amid  the  light  of  high  noon, 
and  which  constantly  increased  in  volume,  as- 
suming divers  forms,  as  they  swept  upwards,  and 
tinged  the  heavens.  These  puffs  of  smoke  flash- 
ing now  here,  now  there,  took  their  birth  on  the 
hills,  in  the  batteries  of  the  enemy,  in  the  city, 
and  high  against  the  sky.  The  sound  of  the  dis- 
charges never  ceased,  but  shook  the  air  with  their 
mingled  roar. 

At  twelve  o'clock,  the  puffs  of  smoke  began  to 
occur  less  and  less  fequently,  and  the  atmosphere 
quivered  less  with  the  roar. 

"  But  the  second  bastion  is  no  longer  replying 


244  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

at  all,"  said  the  officer  of  hussars,  who  sat  there 
on  horseback;  "it  is  utterly  destroyed!  Hor- 
rible ! " 

''  Yes,  and  the  Malakoff  only  sends  one  shot  to 
their  three,"  replied  the  officer  who  was  looking 
through  his  glass.  "  It  enrages  me  to  have  them 
silent.  They  are  firing  straight  on  the  Kornilov- 
sky  battery,  and  it  is  not  answering  at  all." 

"  But  you  see  that  they  always  cease  the  bom- 
bardment at  twelve  o'clock,  just  as  I  said.  It  is 
the  same  to-day.  Let  us  go  and  get  some  break- 
fast .  .  .  they  are  already  waiting  for  us  .  .  . 
there's  nothing  to  see." 

"  Stop,  don't  interfere,"  said  the  officer  with  the 
glass,  gazing  at  Sevastopol  with  peculiar  eager- 
ness. 

"  What's  going  on  there  }     What  is  it  t " 

"There  is  a  movement  in  the  trenches,  and 
heavy  columns  are    marching." 

"Yes,  that  is  evident,"  said  the  other.  "The 
columns  are  under  way.  We  must  give  the 
signal." 

"  See,  see !  They  have  emerged  from  the 
trenches." 

In  truth,  it  was  visible  to  the  naked  eye  that 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


245 


dark  masses  were  moving  down  the  hill,  across  the 
narrow  valley,  from  the  French  batteries  to  the 
bastions.  In  front  of  these  specks,  dark  streaks 
were  visible,  which  were  already  close  to  our  lines. 
White  puffs  of  smoke  of  discharges  burst  out  at 
various  points  on  the  bastions,  as  though  the  firing 
were  running  along  the  line. 

The  breeze  bore  to  them  the  sounds  of  mus- 
ketry-shots, exchanged  briskly,  like  rain  upon  the 
window-pane.  The  black  streaks  moved  on,  nearer 
and  nearer,  into  the  very  smoke.  The  sounds  of 
firing  grew  louder  and  louder,  and  mingled  in  a 
lengthened,  resounding  roar. 

The  smoke,  rising  more  and  more  frequently, 
spread  rapidly  along  the  line,  flowed  together  in 
one  lilac-hued  cloud,  which  dispersed  and  joined 
again,  and  through  which,  here  and  there,  flitted 
flames  and  black  points  —  and  all  sounds  were 
commingled  in  one  reverberating  crash. 

"  An  assault,"  said  the  officer,  with  a  pale  face, 
as  he  handed  the  glass  to  the  naval  officer. 

Orderlies  galloped  along  the  road,  officers  on 
horseback,  the  commander-in-chief  in  a  calash, 
and  his  suite  passed  by.  Profound  emotion  and 
expectation  were  visible  on  all  countenances. 


246  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

"  It  cannot  be  that  they  have  taken  it ! "  said 
the  mounted  officer. 

, "  By  Heavens,  there's  the  standard !  Look, 
look  !  "  said  the  other,  sighing  and  abandoning  the 
glass.     **The  French  standard  on  the  Malakoff !" 

"It  cannot  be!" 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


247 


XXIV. 

The  elder  Kozeltzoff,  who  had  succeeded  in  win- 
ning back  his  money  and  losing  it  all  again  that 
night,  including  even  the  gold  pieces  which  were 
sewed  into  his  cuffs,  had  fallen,  just  before  day- 
break, into  a  heavy,  unhealthy,  but  profound  slum- 
ber, in  the  fortified  barracks  of  the  fifth  battalion, 
when  the  fateful  cry,  repeated  by  various  voices, 
rang  out : — 

**The  alarm!" 

"  Why  are  you  sleeping,  Mikha'fl  Semyonitch ! 
There's  an  assault ! "  a  voice  shouted  to  him. 

"That  is  probably  some  school-boy,"  he  said, 
opening  his  eyes,  but  putting  no  faith  in  it. 

But  all  at  once  he  caught  sight  of  an  officer 
running  aimlessly  from  one  corner  to  the  other, 
with  such  a  pale  face  that  he  understood  it  all. 
The  thought  that  he  might  be  taken  for  a  coward, 
who  did  not  wish  to  go  out  to  his  company  at  a 
critical  moment,  struck  him  with  terrible  force. 
He  ran  to  his  corps  at  the  top  of  his  speed.     Fir- 


248  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

ing  had  ceased  from  the  heavy  guns ;  but  the 
crash  of  muske'try  was  at  its  height.  The  bullets 
whistled,  not  singly  like  rifle-balls,  but  in  swarms, 
like  a  flock  of  birds  in  autumn,  flying  past  over- 
head. The  entire  spot  on  which  his  battalion 
had  stood  the  night  before  was  veiled  in  smoke, 
and  the  shouts  and  cries  of  the  enemy  were  au- 
dible. Soldiers,  both  wounded  and  unwounded, 
met  him  in  throngs.  After  running  thirty  paces 
further,  he  caught  sight  of  his  company,  which 
was  hugging  the  wall. 

**  They  have  captured  Schwartz,"  said  a  young 
officer.     *'  All  is  lost  !  " 

"  Nonsense  ! "  said  he,  angrily,  grasping  his 
blunt  little  iron  sword,  and  he  began  to  shout :  — 

"  Forward,    children  !     Hurrah  !  " 

His  voice  was  strong  and  ringing ;  it  roused 
even  Kozeltzoff  himself.  He  ran  forward  along 
the  traverse ;  fifty  soldiers  rushed  after  him, 
shouting  as  they  went.  From  the  traverse  he 
ran  out  upon  an  open  square.  The  bullets  fell 
literally  like  hail.  Two  struck  him, —  but  where, 
and  what  they  did,  whether  they  bruised  or 
wounded  him,  he  had  not  the  time  to  decide. 

In  front,  he  could  already  see  blue  uniforms  and 


/ 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  249 

red  trousers,  and  could  hear  shouts  which  were 
not  Russian  ;  one  Frenchman  was  standing  on  the 
^l)reastworks,  waving  his  cap,  and  shouting  some- 
thing. Kozeltzoff  was  convinced  that  he  was 
about  to  be  killed  ;  this  gave  him  courage. 

He  ran  on  and  on.  Some  soldiers  overtook  him  ; 
other  soldiers  appeared  at  one  side,  also  running. 
The  blue  uniforms  remained  at  the  same  distance 
from  him,  fleeing  back  from  him  to  their  own 
trenches  ;  but  beneath-  his  feet  were  the  dead  and 
wounded.  When  he  had  run  to  the  outermost 
ditch,  everything  became  confused  before  Kozel- 
tzoff's  eyes,  and  he  was  conscious  of  a  pain  in  the 
breast. 

Half  an  hour  later,  he  was  lying  on  a  stretcher, 
near  the  Nikolaevsky  barracks,  and  knew  that  he 
was  wounded,  though  he  felt  hardly  any  pain  ;  all 
he  wanted  was  something  cooling  to  drink,  and  to 
be  allowed  to  lie  still  in  peace. 

A  plump  little  doctor,  with  black  side-whiskers, 
approached  him,  and  unbuttoned  his  coat.  Kozel- 
tzoff stared  over  his  chin  at  what  the  doctor  was 
doing  to  his  wound,  and  at  the  doctor's  face,  but 
he  felt  no  pain.  The  doctor  covered  his  wound 
with  his  shirt,  wiped  his  fingers  on  the  skirts  of 


250 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


his  coat,  and,  without  a  word  or  glance  at  the 
wounded  man,  went  off  to  some  one  else. 

Kozeltzoff's  eyes  mechanically  took  note  of  what 
was  going  on  before  him,  and,  recalling  the  fact 
that  he  had  been  in  the  fifth  bastion,  he  thought, 
with  an  extraordinary  feeling  of  self-satisfaction, 
that  he  had  fulfilled  his  duty  well,  and  that,  for  the 
first  time  in  all  his  service,  he  had  behaved  as 
handsomely  as  it  was  possible  for  any  one,  and 
had  nothing  with  which  to  reproach  himself.  The 
doctor,  after  bandaging  the  other  officer's  wound, 
pointed  to  Kozeltzoff,  and  said  something  to  a 
priest,  with  a  huge  reddish  beard,  and  a  cross,  who 
was  standing  near  by. 

"  What !  am  I  dying }  "  Kozeltzoff  asked  the 
priest,  when  the  latter  approached  him. 

The  priest,  without  making  any  reply,  recited  a 
prayer  and  handed  the  cross  to  the  wounded  man. 

Death  had  no  terrors  for  Kozeltzoff.  He  grasped 
the  cross  with  his  weak  hands,  pressed  it  to  his 
lips,  and  burst  into  tears. 

**  Well,  were  the  French  repulsed  ? "  he  in- 
quired of  the  priest,  in  firm  tones. 

"  The  victory  has  remained  with  us  at  every 
point,"  replied  the  priest,  in  order  to  comfort  the 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  25  I 

wounded  man,  concealing  from  him  the  fact  that 
the  French  standard  had  already  been  unfurled  on 
the  Malakoff  mound. 

"Thank  God!"  said  the  wounded  man,  without 
feeling  the  tears  which  were  trickling  down  his 
cheeks. 

The  thought  of  his  brother  occurred  to  his 
mind  for  a  single  instant.  "May  God  grant  him 
the  same  good-fortune,"  he  said  to  himself. 


252  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


XXV. 

But  the  same  fate  did  not  await  Volodya.  He 
was  listening  to  a  tale  which  Vasin  was  in  the 
act  of  relating  to  him,  when  there  was  a  cry,  — 
"  The  French  are  coming  !  "  The  blood  fled  for 
a  moment  to  Volodya's  heart,  and  he  felt  his 
cheeks  turn  cold  and  pale.  For  one  second  he 
remained  motionless,  but,  on  glancing  about  him, 
he  perceived  that  the  soldiers  were  buttoning  up 
their  coats  with  tolerable  equanimity,  and  crawl- 
ing out,  one  after  the  other.  One  even,  probably 
Melnikoff,  remarked,  in  a  jesting  way  :  — 

"  Go  out  and  offer  them  the  bread  and  salt  of 
hospitality,  children  ! " 

Volodya,  in  company  with  Viang,  who  never 
separated  from  him  by  so  much  as  a  step,  crawled 
out  of  the  bomb-proof,  and  ran  to  the  battery. 

There  was  no  artillery  firing  whatever  in  prog- 
ress on  either  side.  It  was  not  so  much  the  sight 
of  the  soldiers'  composure  which  aroused  his  cour- 
age as  the  pitiful  and  undisguised  cowardice  of 
Viang.     **  Is  it  possible  for  me  to  be  like  him  ?  " 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  253 

he  said  to  himself,  and  he  ran  on  gayly  up  to  the 
breastworks,  near  which  his  mortars  stood.  It 
was  clearly  apparent  to  him  that  the  French 
were  making  straight  for  him  through  an  open 
space,  and  that  masses  of  them,  with  their  bayo- 
nets glittering  in  the  sun,  were  moving  in  the 
nearest  trenches. 

One,  a  short,  broad-shouldered  fellow,  in  zouave 
uniform,  and  armed  with  a  sword,  ran  on  in  front 
and  leaped  the  ditch. 

"  Fire  grape-shot ! "  shouted  Volodya,  hastening 
from  the  banquette  ;  but  the  soldiers  had  already 
made  their  preparations  without  waiting  for  his 
orders,  and  the  metallic  sound  of  the  grape-shot 
which  they  discharged  shrieked  over  his  head, 
first  from  one  and  then  from  the  other  mortar. 

"  First !  second  !  "  commanded  Volodya,  running 
from  one  mortar  to  the  other,  and  utterly  oblivious 
of  danger. 

On  one  side,  and  near  at  hand,  the  crash  of 
musketry  from  our  men  under  shelter,  and  anxious 
cries,  were  heard. 

All  at  once  a  startling  cry  of  despair,  repeated 
by  several  voices,  was  heard  on  the  left :  "  They 
are  surrounding  us  !     They  are  surrounding  us  ! " 


254  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

Volodya  looked  round  at  this  shout.  Twenty 
Frenchmen  made  their  appearance  in  the  rear. 
One  of  them,  a  handsome  man  with  a  black  beard, 
was  in  front  of  all ;  but,  after  running  up  to  within 
ten  paces  of  the  battery,  he  halted,  and  fired 
straight  at  Volodya,  and  then  ran  towards  him 
once  more. 

For  a  second,  Volodya  stood  as  though  turned 
to  stone,  and  did  not  believe  his  eyes.  When  he 
recovered  himself  and  glanced  about  him,  there 
were  blue  uniforms  in  front  of  him  on  the  ram- 
parts ;  two  Frenchmen  were  even  spiking  a  can- 
non not  ten  paces  distant  from  him. 

There  was  no  one  near  him,  with  the  exception 
of  Melnikoff,  who  had  been  killed  by  a  bullet 
beside  him,  and  Viang,  who,  with  a  handspike 
clutched  in  his  hand,  had  rushed  forwards,  with 
an  expression  of  wrath  on  his  face,  and  with  eyes 
lowered. 

"  Follow  me,  Vladimir  Semyonitch !  Follow 
me  ! "  shouted  the  desperate  voice  of  Viang,  as  he 
brandished  his  handspike  over  the  French,  who 
were  pouring  in  from  the  rear.  The  yunker's 
ferocious  countenance  startled  them.  He  struck 
the  one  who  was  in  advance,  on  the  head  ;   the 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 


255 


others  involuntarily  paused,  and  Viang  continued 
to  glare  about-  him,  and  to  shout  in  despairing 
accents  :  "  Follow  me,  Vladimir  Semyonitch  ! 
Why  do  you  stand  there  ?  Run  ! "  and  ran  to- 
wards the  trenches  in  which  lay  our  infantry,  fir- 
ing at  the  French.  After  leaping  into  the  trench, 
he  came  out  again  to  see  what  his  adored  ensign 
was  dong.  Something  in  a  coat  was  lying  pros- 
trate where  Volodya  had  been  standing,  and  the 
whole  place  was  filled  with  Frenchmen,  who  were 
firing  at  our  men. 


256  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 


XXVI. 

Viang  found  his  battery  on  the  second  line  of 
defence.  Out  of  the  twenty  soldiers  who  had 
been  in  the  mortar  battery,  only  eight  survived. 

At  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  Viang  set  out 
with  the  battery  on  a  steamer  loaded  down  with 
soldiers,  cannon,  horses,  and  wounded  men,  for 
Severnaya. 

There  was  no  firing  anywhere.  The  stars  shone 
brilliantly  in  the  sky,  as  on  the  preceding  night ; 
but  a  strong  wind  tossed  the  sea.  On  the  first  and 
second  bastions,  lightnings  flashed  along  the  earth  ; 
explosions  rent  the  atmosphere,  and  illuminated 
strange  black  objects  in  their  vicinity,  and  the 
stones  which  flew  through  the  air. 

Something  was  burning  near  the  docks,  and 
the  red  glare  was  reflected  in  the  water.  The 
bridge,  covered  with  people,  was  lighted  up  by 
the  fire  from  the  Nikolaevsky  battery.  A  vast 
flame  seemed  to  hang  over  the  water,  from  the 
distant  promontory  of  the  Alexandrovsky  bat- 
tery, and  illuminated  the  clouds  of  smoke  beneath, 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  257 

as  it  rose  above  them ;  and  the  same  tranquil, 
insolent,  distant  lights  as  on  the  preceding  even- 
ing gleamed  over  the  sea,  from  the  hostile  fleet. 

The  fresh  breeze  raised  billows  in  the  bay.  By 
the  red  light  of  the  conflagrations,  the  masts 
of  our  sunken  ships,  which  were  settling  deeper 
and  deeper  into  the  water,  were  visible.  Not  a 
sound  of  conversation  was  heard  on  deck  ;  there 
was  nothing  but  the  regular  swish  of  the  parted 
waves,  and  the  steam,  the  neighing  and  pawing  of 
the  horses,  the  words  of  command  from  the  cap- 
tain, and  the  groans  of  the  wounded.  Viang,  who 
had  had  nothing  to  eat  all  day,  drew  a  bit  of  bread 
from  his  pocket,  and  began  to  chew  it  ;  but  all  at 
once  he  recalled  Volodya,  and  burst  into  such 
loud  weeping  that  the  soldiers  who  were  near 
him  heard  it. 

"  See  how  our  Vlang^  *  is  eating  his  bread  and 
crying  too,"  said  Vasin. 

"  Wonderful  !  "  said  another. 

"  And  see,  they  have  fired  our  barracks,"  he 
continued,  with  a  sigh.  "  And  how  many  of  our 
brothers  perished  there;  and  the  French  got  it 
for  nothing ! " 

*  The  feminine  form,  as  previously  referred  to. 


258  SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST. 

"  At  all  events,  we  have  got  out  of  it  alive  — 
thank  God  for  that  ! "  said  Vasin. 

''  But  it's  provoking,  all  the  same !  " 

"  What  is  there  provoking  about  it  ?  Do  you 
suppose  they  are  enjoying  themselves  there? 
Not  exac.tly !  You  wait,  our  men  will  take  it 
away  from  them  again.  And  however  many  of 
our  brethren  perish,  as  God  is  holy,  if  the  em- 
peror commands,  they  will  win  it  back.  Can  ours 
leave  it  to  them  thus  t  Never  !  There  you  have 
the  bare  walls ;  but  they  have  destroyed  all  the 
breastworks.  Even  if  they  have  planted  their 
standard  on  the  hill,  they  won't  be  able  to  make 
their  way  into  the  town." 

"  Just  wait,  we'll  have  a  hearty  reckoning  with 
you  yet,  only  give  us  time,"  he  concluded,  ad- 
dressing himself  to  the  French. 

"■  Of  course  we  will !  "  said  another,  with  con- 
viction. 

Along  the  whole  line  of  bastions  of  Sevastopol, 
which  had  for  so  many  months  seethed  with  re- 
markably vigorous  life,  which  had  for  so  many 
months  seen  dying  heroes  relieved  one  after  an- 
other by  death,  and  which  had  for  so  many  months 
awakened   the  terror,  the  hatred,  and  finally  the 


SEVASTOPOL  IN  AUGUST.  259 

admiration  of  the  enemy, — on  ^the  bastions  of 
Sevastopol,  there  was  no  longer  a  single  man.  All 
was  dead,  wild,  horrible,  —  but  not  silent. 

Destruction  was  still  in  progress.  On  the 
earth,  furrowed  and  strewn  with  the  recent  explo- 
sions, lay  bent  gun-carriages,  crushing  down  the 
bodies  of  Russians  and  of  the  foe  ;  heavy  iron  can- 
nons silenced  forever,  bombs  and  cannon-balls 
hurled  with  horrible  force  into  pits,  and  half-buried 
in  the  soil,  then  more  corpses,  pits,  splinters  of 
beams,  bomb-proofs,  and  still  more  silent  bodies  in 
gray  and  blue  coats.  All  these  were  still  fre- 
quently shaken  and  lighted  up  by  the  crimson 
glow  of  the  explosions,  which  continued  to  shock 
the  air. 

The  foe  perceived  that  something  incomprehen- 
sible was  going  on  in  that  menacing  Sevastopol. 
Those  explosions  and  the  death-like  silence  on 
the  bastions  made  them  shudder ;  but  they  dared 
not  yet  believe,  being  still  under  the  influence  of 
the  calm  and  forcible  resistance  of  the  day,  that 
their  invincible  enemy  had  disappeared,  and  they 
awaited  motionless  and  in  silence  the  end  of 
that  gloomy  night. 

The    army   of    Sevastopol,    like    the    gloomy, 


26o  SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST. 

surging  sea,  quivering  throughout  its  entire 
mass,  wavering,  ploughing  across  the  bay,  on 
the  bridge,  and  at  the  north  fortifications, 
moved  slowly  through  the  impenetrable  darkness 
of  the  night ;  away  from  the  place  where  it  had 
left  so  many  of  its  brave  brethren,  from  the  place 
all  steeped  in  its  blood,  from  the  place  which  it 
had  defended  for  eleven  months  against  a  foe  twice 
as  powerful  as  itself,  and  which  it  was  now  or- 
dered to  abandon  without  a  battle. 

The  first  impression  produced  on  every  Russian 
by  this  command  was  inconceivably  sad.  The 
second  feeling  was  a  fear  of  pursuit.  The  men 
felt  that  they  were  defenceless  as  soon  as  they 
abandoned  the  places  on  which  they  were  ac- 
customed to  fight,  and  they  huddled  together 
uneasily  in  the  dark,  at  the  entrance  to  the 
bridge,  which  was  swaying  about  in  the  heavy 
breeze. 

The  infantry  pressed  forward,  with  a  clash  of 
bayonets,  and  a  thronging  of  regiments,  equipages, 
and  arms  ;  cavalry  ofificers  made  their  way  about 
with  orders,  the  inhabitants  and  the  military  ser- 
vants accompanying  the  baggage  wept  and  be- 
sought to  be  permitted  to  cross,  while  the  artillery, 


SEVASTOPOL   IN  AUGUST.  26 1 

in   haste  to  get  off,  forced  their  way  to  the  bay 
with  a  thunder  of  wheels. ' 

In  spite  of  the  diversions  created  by  the  varied 
and  anxious  demands  on  their  attention,  the 
instinct  of  self-preservation  and  the  desire  to 
escape  as  speedily  as  possible  from  that  dread 
place  of  death  were  present  in  every  soul.  This 
instinct  existed  also  in  a  soldier  mortally  wounded, 
who  lay  among  the  five  hundred  other  wounded, 
upon  the  stone  pavement  of  the  Pavlovsky  quay, 
and  prayed  God  to  send  death  ;  and  in  the 
militia-man,  who  with  his  last  remaining  strength 
pressed  into  the  compact  throng,  in  order  to  make 
way  for  a  general  who  rode  by,  and  in  the  general 
in  charge  of  the  transportation,  who  was  engaged 
in  restraining  the  haste  of  the  soldiers,  and  in  the 
sailor,  who  had  become  entangled  in  the  moving 
battalion,  and  who,  crushed  by  the  surging  throng, 
had  lost  his  breath,  and  in  the  wounded  officer, 
who  was  being  borne  along  in  a  litter  by  four  sol- 
diers, who,  stopped  by  the  crowd,  had  placed  him 
on  the  ground  by  the  Nikolaevsky  battery,  and  in 
the  artillery-man,  who  had  served  his  gun  for  six- 
teen years,  and  who,  at  his  superior's  command, 
to  'him    incomprehensible,    to    throw    overboard 


262  SEVASTOPOL   IJV  AUGUST. 

the  guns,  had,  with  the  aid  of  his  comrades,  sent 
them  over  the  steep  bank  into  the  bay ;  and 
in  the  men  of  the  fleet,  who  had  just  closed  the 
port-holes  of  the  ships,  and  had  rowed  lustily 
away  in  their  boats.  On  stepping  upon  the  fur- 
ther end  of  the  bridge,  nearly  every  soldier  pulled 
off  his  cap  and  crossed  himself. 

But  behind  this  instiuct  there  was  another,  op- 
pressive and  far  deeper,  existing  along  with  it ;  this 
was  a  feeling  which  resembled  repentance,  shame, 
and  hatred.  Almost  every  soldier,  as  he  gazed 
on  abandoned  Sevastopol,  from  the  northern  shore, 
sighed  with  inexpressible  bitterness  of  heart,  and 
menaced  the  foe. 


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